


Honeysuckle

by OurLittleSecretOkay



Series: Honeysuckle [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Coming of Age, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mutual Pining, Snufkin is an adult and he does not like it, guilty feelings about attraction, loose adaptations of biology, murrmin, this story does not pass the idiot plot test, trying to make it as clear as possible that this story contains sexual elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 61,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLittleSecretOkay/pseuds/OurLittleSecretOkay
Summary: “Do you remember what you told me?”“That I’d always come back for you. No matter what.”“And you didn’t just tell me. You promised me.”“I did. And I intend to keep it.”“Good. It’s okay if you’re feeling nervous or scared. Take your time.” Standing up, Moomin brushed the grass off his legs. “Just don’t forget to come back to me.”Coming of age story featuring Snufkin growing into his Joxter genetics and Moomin very much noticing as he does so





	1. In Which Snufkin Gets Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for clicking on my story! Just want to draw your attention up for a moment, to make sure you checked out the tags and content rating.   
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The first time Snufkin noticed the fur was during his bath.

It had been a pleasant experience up to that point, the water just cold enough to be refreshing, more of his time spent splashing about than actually bathing, but it counted. So long as it got done, it counted. Floating around quite happily, he stretched, shivering, only to look down and realize he’d quite forgotten to wash his arms. The skin was dark, stained by… something? Roughly, he scrubbed at it, winching at the raw pain. Curious, Snufkin lifted his arm up to make a better inspection, only to realize it wasn’t a dirt stain at all, but a small patch where the hair had grown darker.

 _Perhaps it works like freckles_ , he thought, scratching at it with his fingertip. _I must have been in the sun too long_ , he decided, ignoring the fact that he only ever wore long sleeves. Whatever it was, it was probably fine.

 

A week later and things were decidedly not fine. Whatever it was, it was contagious, his other arm quickly copying the first. The dark patches spread from his wrists to halfway up his forearm, a burnt auburn color, coated in downy fur. Terrified now, he forced himself to get over the embarrassment of becoming… whatever it was he was turning into and seek Moominmamma’s help.

“I think the witch might have cursed me,” running into the kitchen, Snufkin all but broke the door down in his panic.

“Oh, hello Snufkin.” Moominmamma looked up from the bowl she was stirring long enough to smile at him warmly.

Snufkin stopped in his tracks, nodding his head in return. “Hello Moominmamma.”

“What was that about a witch?”

“I think the witch might have cursed me.”

“Oh dear.” Setting down her bowl carefully, Moominmamma walked over to him. “Would you like any coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, dear. Now,” pulling out a stool, Mamma gestured for him to sit. “What makes you think you’ve been cursed?”

“I’m turning into whatever the Hobgoblin’s hat made Moomin.” He had suspected it for a while now, but saying it out loud made it all the more terrifying.

“Oh my, that is a problem, isn’t it?” Resting her snout on her paw, Moominmamma looked him over. “Although, I must say you still _look_ like Snufkin.”

“Yes, but look.” Holding his arms out, Snufkin let the sleeves fall back.

“I see,” humming thoughtfully, Moominmamma touched his arms carefully, examining them. “How long has it been like this?”

“At least two weeks.”

“And it just showed up all at once?”

“No, it started here,” he gestured, “then it spread.”

“It certainly has.” Taking his paw, Moominmamma examined the small patch of fur on the back of his hand. Snufkin gasped.

“That wasn’t there yesterday!”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but it itches.”

“Well, I can give you something to help the itching. Why don’t we see if Grandma’s book has anything on sudden fur growth?”

“Thank you, Moominmamma.”

“Of course.”

 

A few minutes later and Snufkin was sitting at the table, a creamy green mixture slathered over his arms as Moominmamma poured over Grandma’s red book of cures.

“Seasickness, allergies, fur going patchy- that might help.”

“At the very least, we can try doing the cure backwards.”

“What are you two up to today?” Coming downstairs, Moominpappa lifted a match to his pipe.

“Outside, Dear. And we’re trying to undo Snufkin’s curse.”

“Snufkin’s been cursed, you say?” Shaking the flame out, Pappa took the pipe from between his teeth.

“Yes, Moominpappa. The witch is turning me into a beast of some sort,” Snufkin nodded seriously.

“Is that why you’ve gone all green?”

“No. This is just to help with the itching.” Snufkin wiped a bit of lotion off with his finger. “Take a look.”

Moominpappa peered closer, squinting at the dark fur. “I see.” He hummed thoughtfully. “And what exactly am I looking at?”

“I’ve got fur,” embarrassed, as if admitting a dark secret, Snufkin pulled his shoulders up.

“Yes, I suppose it’s about time you did.”

“What do you mean, Dear? Snufkin’s always been near hairless.”

“Yes, but his father wasn’t. He’s just as much Joxter as Mymble., after all.” Straightening up, Moominpappa gazed down at Snufkin proudly. “You, my son, are a man now.”

“I don’t think I want to be.”

“Keep using the lotion if it helps, but I wouldn’t bother the witch about it. It’s your own nature.”

“I’d rather my nature stopped.”

“Nonsense. It’s doing what it does best. Besides, it’ll keep you warm for your wanderings.”

“I’m warm enough as I am, thank you.” Snufkin suddenly had a terrifying thought. “Am I going to go hairy all over like a woodie?”

“No, no! Of course not. You’re still your parents’ child. Just a bit on the limbs and,” Moominpappa pushed up Snufkin’s bangs, “oh, yep. You might want to get some lotion on his forehead and nose, Mamma.”

“My forehead!” Horrified, Snufkin peered upwards as if he could see it.

“Not to worry, dear.” Moominmamma patted his hand. “You already cover it with fur as it is.” Standing, she began to hum lightly. “I’ll get a glass jar for you to take some lotion home in.”

“Right, my boy.” Moominpappa clapped him on the back. “You’re fit to be a proper sailor now.”

“Must I?” Voice squeaking, Snufkin tugged his hat down.


	2. In Which Snufkin Sulks

“Oh wow,” Moomin’s eyes widened as he looked at Snufkin’s newly dark arms. “And Pappa says it’ll keep going?”

“Until I’m right hideous I suppose.” Sitting on the ground with a dramatic huff, Snufkin held his chin in his paws.

“You couldn’t be hideous if you tried,” Moomin tried to comfort his friend, sitting down beside him.

“Easy for you to say. You look good in fur.”

“Oh come on, Snuf. It can’t be so bad.”

“It is bad, Moomin. It’s my face. My face is going to have fur on it.” Groaning, Snufkin flopped onto his back. “I might as well find a dead tree to burrow in.”

“Well, I happen to be extremely partial to furry faces.” Moomin flicked a bug off his leg, trying not to be too offended. “Who knows. Maybe it will suit you.”

“But that’s the thing! Nobody knows! What if my personality changes too and I become something heinous?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. At most, you’ll just act more like your dad.” Moomin shrugged. “That can’t be too bad. He did manage to get Mymble to like him enough to make you.”

“Oh lord,” Snufkin dragged his paws across his face, tail thumping pathetically. “What will I do?”

“You could just let it be since there’s nothing to do about it. Or you could keep feeling sorry for yourself. Your choice.”

Sufkin uncovered his eyes long enough to glare at Moomin, who giggled at his response. “If I turn into a beast like Stinky, I will remind you of this conversation where you squandered one of your last opportunities to have me as a friend.”

“Even if you do turn into Stinky, we’ll still be friends.”

“You can’t possibly mean that.”

“I’ll just find a way to upset the witch enough that she makes me one too. Either way, you’re not alone.” Moomin picked blades of grass nonchalantly. Flushing a strawberry red, Snufkin covered his face with his hat.

“Well, thanks you for that.”

“Has the lotion helped at all?”

“It doesn’t itch anymore, but unfortunately it seems that the fur rather likes it.”

“It is rather shiny.” Moomin pat his friend’s arm gently. “Mind if I look?”

“Sure, just try not to be too revolted.”

Snufkin could hear his friend sigh, didn’t need to see him to know he rolled his eyes. Carefully, Moomin lifting up his arm, petting it.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, deep in thought, “it actually is quite pretty.”

“Well I’m glad at least one of us likes it.”

“Oh, stop it. It’ll be fine.” Moomin took his paw, thumb brushing over the back of his wrist.

 

It was not fine. If anything, things only got worse and worse before plateauing into a constant state of awfulness. Not having a mirror, Snufkin was stuck trying to use the river to see his reflection the few times he’d been able to stomach it. Mostly, he just took to wearing longer-than-needed sleeves and pulling his hat down low. The fur grew in thick and dark, covering his arms and legs in a fluffy mess of disaster. His forehead and nose were utterly unsalvageable, though that fur at least had the decency to come in as thin, smooth strands. The others didn’t mention it for the most part, most likely having warned one another after he’d shut Little My into a saucepan as retribution for a particularly snide comment.

Fuming, he sat on the riverbank, scaring all the fish away with the mere presence of his ugliness.

“Snufkin!”

“What is it, Moomintroll?”

Couldn’t Moomin see he was busy being angry? Obliviously carefree, Moomin ran over the bridge, stopping to catch his breath before jogging the rest of the way.

“I just wanted to bring these over for you.” Moomin held out a tin can filled with worms. Snufkin tilted an eyebrow at the sight.

“Where on earth did you find all those?”

“Little My helped me dig them up. She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry.”

“Does she really?”

“She didn’t say as much, but I could tell.”

Snufkin harrumphed as Moomin sat down beside him, placing the can on the ground.

“I suppose you gathered this during a conversation where you all laughed at how ridiculous I’ve become?”

“No! Of course not. Though you are rather ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?” Snufkin turned to look at his friend in astonishment. Moomintroll was usually not so cruel. Casually, Moomin stared at the water, arms resting on his knees.

“Oh, yes. It is ridiculous. You’ve been hiding away. You, Snufkin, the mumrik who defeated an imp and a sandlion and faced down the groke and walked hundreds of miles through the wilderness alone. You’re scared of a little bit of change. That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s more than that! It’s…” Snufkin hesitated, trying to find the right thing to say. But Moomin was right. There was nothing he could say to that.

“Do you really think a little bit of fur would be enough to stop you from being Snufkin?” Resting his head on his arms, Moomin turned to look at him with a smile. “And if it really bothers you so much, I’ll shave all my fur off. That way everyone will be so distracted laughing at me that they won’t even notice you’ve gone a bit different.”

Snufkin laughed at the thought of a bald Moomintroll. Oh my. That wouldn’t do at all.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Sighing, he recast his line.

“It’s fine. Everyone has the right to go a bit silly at times.” Moomintroll stared at the water. “Little My really does feel bad, though. And I do miss you an awful lot.”

“Even if I’m not the same Snufkin?”

“You’ll always be the same Snufkin. You can’t help it.”

“It doesn’t scare you?”

“Do you remember that time when you left for winter and I cried for a week straight?”

Snufkin nodded silently. It was not a time he particularly liked to remember.

“Do you remember what you told me?”

“That I’d always come back for you. No matter what.”

“And you didn’t just tell me. You promised me.”

“I did. And I intend to keep it.”

“Good. It’s okay if you’re feeling nervous or scared. Take your time.” Standing up, Moomin brushed the grass off his legs. “Just don’t forget to come back to me.”

Snufkin watched as Moomin crossed the bridge again, going back to Moominhouse. Quietly, making sure no one was around, he lifted his hat off his head, setting it to the side.


	3. In Which Little My Causes Trouble

“Anyway, we can’t keep the jams on the high shelf anymore,” frustrated, Moomin poked at the sand with his stick. “Leave it to Little My to ruin everything.”

“Wait a minute!” Pausing in her efforts to lick her own elbow, Little My pointed accusatorily back at him. “I’m not the one who built such a crummy shelf! It was ready to fall!”

“Was it also ready to ruin months of work?”

“I didn’t ruin all of it!”

“What else do you call filling jam with broken glass?”

“A challenge. Not my fault you’re a scaredy cat. No offense, Snufkin.”

“None taken.” Pulling down the brim of his hat further, Snufkin smiled ever so slightly.

“Little My!” Truly angry with her now, Moomin glared down at her, but she was too busy picking strawberry seeds from her tail to notice.

“What? I said no offense.”

“That she did, Moomin.” Laying back, Snufkin covered his face with his hat.

“Besides, you’re just sore that I found out your little secret. Don’t blame me for your own inadequacies.” Jumping up, Little My made a quick inspection of her dress. “There. I think I’ve gotten everything I can. You two coming in?”

“In a minute.” Snufkin’s voice was muffled by his hat.

“Suit yourself.” Running off, Little My splashed into the ocean, causing Snorkmaiden to shriek as she was hit with a blast of cold water. Moomin chuckled, not able to stay angry for long in such nice weather.

“You going in too?”

“No.” Moomin leaned back on his hands. “I’ll stay out here with you if you don’t mind the company.”

“Of course I don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure you’re not staying for my sake.”

“I’ll go in in a bit. Not yet though.” Lying down on the warm sand, Moomin rolled onto his belly. “How have you been feeling?”

“Fine. Not half as itchy, which is good. Though it does take me twice as long to groom myself.”

“You groom yourself?” Genuinely surprised, Moomin almost laughed at the thought of Snufkin bothering to run a comb through his hair.

“Of course I do. Maybe not as often as you do. I’m just grateful I didn’t get white fur.”

“What’s wrong with white fur?” There was a stitch in Moomin’s heart at his words.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! I just assume it would be harder to keep clean.” Snufkin’s voice sped up, obviously realizing he’d hurt Moomin’s feelings.

Closing his eyes, Moomin sighed. “Not so hard. Of course, I wouldn’t know any different, would I?”

“I suppose not.”

“What would you think if I suddenly sprouted dark fur?”

Snufkin hummed contemplatively. “I suppose I would have to accuse you of copying my dashingly roguish looks.” Moomin laughed. There was a sound of sand moving and then a paw on his head as Snufkin ruffled his fur. “Stick to white. It suits you.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m sorry again for being an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know I’m just happy you’re yourself again.”

“I don’t suppose that’s a compliment.”

“Not for everyone, but then again, not everyone is as dashing and roguish as you.”

“You know, it’s a good thing I travel. Too much time around you and my ego wouldn’t fit in my tent.”

“It’s true.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Yes necessarily.”

“You’ve very silly, Moomintroll.”

“Yes. But I’m also honest.”

The two friends sat in silence, Snufkin removing his paw eventually. Moomin heard a match hiss, and then there was the lovely smell of smoke as Snufkin lit his pipe.

Sighing contentedly, Moomin opened his eyes only to be met by the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life.

“Oh,” he pushed himself up as Snufkin glanced at him, paw frozen above his pipe.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just.” Blushing all over, Moomin pushed himself to his knees. “I haven’t seen you without your hat.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No! No. Just-“ Moomin coughed into his fist, properly flustered.

“Oh, sorry, should I put this out?” Snufkin pointed to his pipe.

“You’re fine, it’s fine. Keep doing… whatever.” Shrugging coolly, Moomin stared at the cliff’s edge.

“Okay?” Snufkin watched him cautiously. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Totally fine.”

“It’s my face, isn’t it?”

“No! No! Well,” Moomin hesitated, “yes. But not in a bad way!” Putting a paw on Snufkin’s hat, he stopped him from lifting it back up. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard. I didn’t expect…” Didn’t expect what? For his best friend to suddenly become the most beautiful creature he had ever seen? Forget the wooden lady, Snufkin was the pinnacle of beauty. Hideous creature, indeed. Low in Moomin’s gut, something twisted. “I didn’t expect it.”

“Sorry.” Looking away, Snufkin held his pipe between his teeth, keeping his eyes downcast and brow furrowed.

“No! Just- Can I get a proper look?” Holding his paws out, Moomin watched Snufkin waver and then eventually place his cheek in Moomin’s open palm, still avoiding eye contact.

Wow. He was… It was…

“Lovely,” Moomin whispered.

“What was that?”

“Lucky! I said you’re lucky because your fur’s so short! This heat, right?” Moomin laughed awkwardly. Snufkin brushed a paw over his forehead.

“Is it? I think it’s quite nice outside.”

“Can I?” Waiting for a nod, Moomin took Snufkin’s paw in his own, pushing the sleeve up to the elbow so that he could get a better look.

The once trim fur had grown in dark, so thick it almost felt waterproof.

“Wow,” Moomin leaned in, examining it as close as he could. “Snuf, this is-“

“Weird, right?” The pipe clicked against his teeth as he put it back in his mouth.

“Beautiful.” Looking up, Moomin instantly realized he had made another mistake. Snufkin’s fingers rested against his own, perfectly warm and wonderfully gentle as his friend smiled, chuckling, and Moomin’s heart fell out of his chest, shattering like an ill-placed jam jar.

“You think so?” Timid, Snufkin flexed his fingers, his nose scrunching up in thought. Never before had Moomin so badly wanted to kiss that nose.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“Hey, weirdos!” shouting from the water, Little My broke their reverie. “Are you coming in or what?”

“Coming!” Standing up, Snufkin stretched, holding a paw out to Moomin. “You ready?”

“Yes! Er, sure.” Blushing, he let his friend help him to his feet, heart pounding with every step.


	4. In Which Moomin Needs Help

Snufkin was his friend. His best friend. Whom he cherished and whose friendship he would never jeopardize by falling in love with him.

That was what Moomin had been telling himself, anyway. But frustratingly enough, he hardly seemed to listen anymore. Emboldened by their beach visit, Snufkin had taken to acting as if he could go back to just casually walking around, tripping Moomintroll’s heart every time they crossed paths. He felt bad about it; he really did. He was the same Snufkin he had always been, so why would something as shallow as looks change that? It shouldn’t. It didn’t. Everything was exactly the same and he _certainly_ didn’t spend an alarming amount of time thinking about kissing Snufkin’s perfect little snout.

He needed help. He really did. But he couldn’t ask Mamma or Pappa--it was too embarrassing. Little My was right out, naturally. Most of the adults he knew would be useless or distracted or find the whole thing silly. Finally exhausting himself with the effort of not thinking about how lovely Snufkin’s new fur looked in the summer light, he found himself knocking on the door of the only other person he could think to trust with his secret.

“Moomintroll!” Too-Ticky put her paws on her hips, smiling. “What brings you here?”

“I need some help.” Moomin’s tail swished back and forth anxiously. Maybe this was a mistake.

“By all means, come in!” Stepping back, Too-Ticky beckoned him in, shutting the door behind him.

 

“I see.” Taking a slow sip from her cup of tea, Too-Ticky sighed. “Love can be a tricky thing.”

“I’m not saying I love him,” Moomin held his paws out defensively. “I’m just saying that, well, I can’t seem to stop thinking about kissing his face.”

“If you insist.” She chuckled at some personal little secret. “But I’m afraid I don’t quite understand the problem.”

“There’s two problems, really. One, it’s Snufkin, and two, does it make me bad if I only like him because he’s so handsome now?” Moomin’s ears tucked down.

“No, no of course not.” Too-Ticky put a warm paw on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’d like him just the same no matter how he looked, right?”

“I didn’t like him as much before, I don’t think.”

“Didn’t you?” She cocked her head to the side, smiling.

“Well,” Moomin thought it over, “it’s not like I don’t want him to be my best friend anymore. But I don’t think I thought about kissing him half as much.”

“That’s natural. He’s grown into his adult-sized body and you’ve grown into your adult-sized love. It’s the way of things, Moomintroll.”

“Maybe, but it still makes me shallow, doesn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest. It just means you’ve been paying attention.”

“Paying attention to what?”

“To everything going on in here,” gently, she poked his chest.

“Still seems rather silly.”

“Think of it this way. How big was your first bed?”

“First?” Moomin scratched his head. “Probably the size of a basket.”

“And that was a perfectly good bed for you at the time. But you grew out of it, needed something bigger. And again and again. Nothing wrong with the old ones, they just didn’t fit you anymore. Your bed’s gotten a little bit bigger, Moomintroll. Everyone’s does.”

Moomin wasn’t sure that he liked her specifically picking a bed to make the point, but she wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“I suppose,” sighing, he looked into his cup of tea, thinking very many thoughts.

“Keep your chin up. It’ll turn out.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Moomin looked at her pleadingly.

Silently, Too-Ticky mimed locking the side of her lips, flicking away the key. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell him, just…” Moomin stared into his tea again. “Not yet.”

“Of course. One’s got to be ready for these sorts of things.” Leaning back, she sighed. “Why, I once waited three years to tell someone I fancied them.”

“And how did that turn out?”

“We had to buy a bigger bed.” She took another slow drink from her cup, nodding sagely. “Mymble kicks in her sleep.”


	5. In Which Snufkin Is A Mess And Doesn't Get To Eat Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If yall haven't checked the rating on this fic NOW IS A GREAT TIME TO DO SO.
> 
> Cheers

“Hi Snufkin.”

“Moomin.” Snufkin smiled, genuinely glad for his friend’s company. Quietly, Moomin took his place beside him on the riverbank.

“How are you?”

“Doing well. And you?”

“Fine, fine.”

Conversation finished, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Nothing could possibly ruin this day. The chill had lasted late into the year, making the weather perfectly light.

“Oh, you have a leaf in your hair.”

“Can you get it out?” Snufkin tilted his head to the side. “I’m busy not letting go.”

“Of course.”

Humming as he slowly reeled his line in, Snufkin sighed happily as Moomin picked the stray leaf from his hair, letting it fall down onto the water, floating away.

“While I’m at it, do you want me to untangle this mess for you?”

“I wouldn’t call it a mess,” raising his arms above his head, Snufkin sent his line soaring out.

“You wouldn’t, but almost anyone else would.”

“Fine, alright. If it’ll make you happy.” Rolling his eyes, Snufkin smiled as Moomin knelt behind him, paws beginning to pick apart the knots. Closing his eyes, he continued humming, enjoying the warm breeze and gentle caress. It wasn’t often he enjoyed being touched, but with weather so nice and Moomin so kind, who could dislike it?

Moomin’s paws sent tingles down his spine, and before he knew it, he was purring happily. What a lovely day. What a lovely Moomintroll.

Sighing, he looked about himself, curious. Something was different, wasn’t it? Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Just as he was about to ask Moomin’s opinion, he felt the moomintroll’s paws slip down his back, slow and soft.

“Moomin?” Turning over his shoulder to look, he was surprised by a very warm snout pushing against his face. “Oh!” He gasped as paws found their way beneath his tunic, slowly creeping up his chest. “Oh,” this time, the sound came from somewhere deeper inside him, breathy and warm. “Moomin, what are you-“ the question turned into a moan as paws slid into his trousers, pushing his legs apart. “Moomin!” arching back, Snufkin gasped again, panting as his toes curled, lips parting in a shout as he felt Moomintroll, his Moomintroll, tuck his fingers inside him, begin pumping him, playing with him. “Don’t stop!” Reaching over his shoulder, Snufkin held onto the back of Moomin’s head, his cheek pushed against the warm snout. Looking down, he realized he wasn’t wearing his pants anymore, wondered for a moment if he had dropped them into the river. “Wait, did you see-“ looking side to side, he realized his fishing rod was missing too. It seemed like an odd thing to care about at a time like this, but he really did need it.

“Snufkin,” Moomin’s voice came, sounding far away and airy. More fervent now, he swirled the pads of his paws, making Snufkin gasp with pleasure.

“Ah! Moomin, you’re-“ whining, he pressed back, trying to get closer. “Please don’t stop!”

“Snufkin,” his voice came again, more insistent.

“I’m trying, I’m trying! I’m so close, I-“

“Snufkin!”

Snufkin’s eyes shot open to a very confused Moomin standing above him. Sitting up with a gasp, he shook his head. “Moomin? Wh-“

“You fell asleep. I caught this fish for you.” Moomin held up his fishing line, which was indeed sporting a fish.

“Oh.” Snufkin pushed the hair back from his forehead, sweating. “Thanks.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” Moomin furrowed his brow.

Forcing himself not to stare at his friend’s paws, Snufkin stood shakily. “I suppose.”

“It was only a dream,” Moomin smiled, obviously worried.

“Yes, of course. I mean- I should go.” Turning curtly Snufkin began to powerwalk back to his tent.

“Wait!” Moomin called. “The fish!”

“Let it get off! I mean- Take it off! I mean- Let it go!” Still flustered, Snufkin shouted back.

“I’ll put it in a bucket for you!”

“That works!” Tired of yelling, he waved awkwardly. “Bye now!”

“Bye?” Moomin waved back, confused.

 

Closing the flaps of his tent, Snufkin held his head in his paws, fully panicking. Oh no. This was not good. This was bad, very bad, very very bad. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Breathing in shakily, he told himself to calm down. It was just a dream. Just one dream. He dreamt weird things all the time; it was silly to get worked up about it.

But what if it wasn’t?

Frantic, he tugged at his hair. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

This could not happen to him, he decided. It was one dream, it was weird, and he was over it. Who cared about a silly old dream? He forced himself to laugh. That’s all it was. Ridiculous. As if Moomin would ever… What? Slowly and tenderly work him to completion?

Burying his face in his blanket, Snufkin screamed. This was not good.


	6. In Which Moomin Is In Love

“Hey, Snufkin!”

“Moomin.” Nodding curtly, Snufkin went back to his whittling. Moomin watched him carefully. Something wasn’t right. His hands were shaking.

“Are you okay? You were off in an awful rush yesterday.”

“Oh, yes.” Snufkin lifted his project to his face in careful examination. “I think I just caught a cold or something.”

“That’s no good! How are you feeling now?”

“I’ve been better. The cold air is nice.”

Looking around, Moomin frowned. “Cold air?”

“Can’t you feel the breeze?”

“Snufkin, it’s stiflingly hot out here.”

“Is it?” Looking up, Snufkin wiped some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. The sight fell heavy into the pit of Moomin’s stomach.

“Yeah. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” Snufkin laughed uncertainly. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Sitting on the ground, Moomin picked at the grass. “A bit bored, if I’m honest.”

“Well, I suppose we are due for an adventure.”

“I suppose so. Hopefully something will come along soon.”

“I’m sure it will.” Snufkin sighed, leaning back into the grass. Lying down next to him, Moomin rolled onto his belly, carefully picking wildflowers to place in Snufkin’s hair.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Snufkin looked up at Moomin with his big, wonderful eyes, making his heart jump.

“Do you think I look just the same as I did as a kid?”

“Not at all. Why?”

“No reason,” Moomin shrugged.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually jealous of my little crisis?”

“No,” Moomin sighed, lying. “I just think it must be nice to have people look at you and know you’re an adult.”

“Well, you’re certainly much too tall to be a child.”

“That’s not a good measure. Look at Little My.”

“Little My is a case all her own.” Snufkin closed his eyes, smiling as Moomin continued arranging the flowers in his hair. “Besides, I happen to like the way you look.”

“You do?” Moomin’s stomach flipped, twisting itself about.

“Oh, yes. I think it’s a look perfectly suited to you.”

“Maybe I ought to get a top hat, like Pappa.”

“Not exactly like him, I hope.”

“Of course not. Just something to show I am my own person.”

“What about a daisy?” Opening one eye, Snufkin took the flower from Moomin’s paw, tucking it above his ear. “There. Absolutely stunning.”

Moomin giggled, poking Snufkin’s snout with his finger. “You’re being silly again.”

“Maybe you just make me silly.” Closing his eyes, Snufkin sighed. Moomin took the opportunity to unabashedly stare, soaking in every little detail. Carefully, he pressed a paw to his friend’s forehead.

“Do you have a fever, Snuf? You’re awfully pink.”

“Probably just the sun,” shielding his eyes, he squinted upwards. “You’re right; it is an awfully hot day.”

“Want to go swimming?”

“No, I’m too lazy for that right now.”

“Then how about we find some shade and I finish decorating your hair and you can tell me one of your travel stories?”

“Alright.” Sitting up, Snufkin smiled, loose flowers falling into his lap. The air went so thick with sweetness that Moomin almost choked, managing a shaky smile as he pushed himself to his feet.


	7. In Which Snufkin Makes A Dreadful Mistake

Snufkin had fallen asleep again, face tucked into the crook of his arm, nose twitching every so often. Putting down the book he had been reading, Moomin watched his friend, laughing to himself as Snufkin’s feet kicked. What a fantastic mumrik. Carding his fingers into his hair, Moomin pet his friend carefully, not wanting to disturb him. Sighing in his sleep, Snufkin stilled, tongue poking out of his lips and back in again. Covering his mouth with a paw, Moomin giggled. If he ever told Snufkin what a funny sleeper he was, he’d probably never sleep around him again. So for now it had to be his secret. He didn’t mind that; it was nice to have things he didn’t have to share.

Snufkin sighed, cheek smushed up against his paw. If he got any more adorable, Moomin would… Well, he didn’t know what he’d do, because it was practically impossible.

As if to challenge the thought, Snufkin stretched, bare toes pointing sharply as his arms stretched out, tunic lifting just enough to expose his tummy, and- Oh. Oh my. A patch of dark fur ran up the underside of Snufkin’s stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. Moomin forced himself to look away, staring at the ceiling. No. This was wrong. If Snufkin was awake, he certainly wouldn’t want Moomin staring at his naked belly, no matter how cute it might be. Not matter how soft the fur looked, no matter the fact that Moomin had been under the impression that the fur only covered his lower arms and legs. Was it even fur? Maybe it was just a shadow and he was confused. He’d better look again, just to be certain.

Nope, that was definitely fur. Moomin’s face flushed, embarrassed and excited and… something else? An entirely novel desire to kiss his friend surfaced. The want to kiss him wasn’t new, of course, but… Moomin stared at the fur, imagined pressing his snout to it, how soft it would feel on his nose.

Squeaking, Moomin clenched his teeth together as if that would stop the thought. No. This was Snufkin, his best friend. He shouldn’t be wondering about how far the fur went up his legs, and how good it would feel to slide his snout along his thighs. He _definitely_ should not wonder what it would taste like, kissing Snufkin like that. His fingers tightened in Snufkin’s hair as he purred, happily oblivious to Moomin’s betrayal.

Moomin looked over his sweet sleeping face, flushed at the idea of Snufkin finding out about his thoughts. Snufkin asking him questions. Snufkin sitting on the edge of his bed, sliding his legs open, inviting Moomin to find out for himself, and-

No! No. He was not going to do this. Standing up abruptly, he accidently-on-purpose dropped the book he had been reading, waking Snufkin mid-snore.

“Moomin?” he rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, sorry! Did I wake you?” Summoning up all his acting skills, Moomin looked utterly surprised.

“I must have fallen asleep.” Groaning, Snufkin stretched, back arching against the floor.

 _Don’t look at his tummy. Don’t look at his tummy._ Moomin looked at his tummy.

Sighing, Snufkin relaxed, rubbing at his eyes. “How long was I asleep?”

“I honestly didn’t notice.” _Please pull your shirt down. Please pull your shirt down. For the love of all things good, PLEASE pull your shirt down!_

“Well that could mean anything. You have a habit of getting awfully tangled in your stories, Moomintroll.” Snufkin laughed, sitting up. Moomin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Any more nightmares?”

“Oh, no.” Snufkin scratched the back of his neck, turning his face away. Moomin closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. Whatever new soap Snufkin was using, it was really lovely.

“That’s good.”

“Very.” Standing, Snufkin twisted his back about, stretching some more. “I suppose I best be going.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon.”

“Sounds good.” Waving, Snufkin walked out the door. Lifting his book to cover his face, Moomin groaned. What was he going to do with himself?


	8. In Which Snufkin Is a Bad Friend

Snufkin sat up in his tent, panting. Shivering despite the sweat covering his body, he groaned, flopping back down. Again? That was the third dream this week.

While it was hard enough having dreams about Moomintroll, it was impossibly harder having dreams about these faceless hands, prying at him, pulling at him, all darkness and vague form. The worst part of all was that he never seemed to mind it, forgetting to be scared after a while. Rubbing his face with his paws, he sighed. This was exactly what he had been afraid of.

Rolling onto side, he hugged himself tightly, staring at the wall of his tent. The dreams were never the same, and that made it all the more difficult. For all he knew, this might be one, and any second now he would hear his tent slowly open and then- Snufkin shuddered, tightening his grip.

He needed help. But who could help him? His dad? By the time he found him, Snufkin might be well on his way to villainy. He needed help now. Of course, Snufkin knew what he _wanted_ ; that much was abundantly clear. Sighing, he closed his eyes, pushed his paw into his pants.

Was it bad that he imagined it was Moomintroll? Probably. But here in the dark, on his lonesome, it was much less terrifying than the nameless faces that haunted his dreams. Moomintroll he trusted. Moomintroll wouldn’t hurt him. But still.

Breath shaking, Snufkin forced himself to relax. It wouldn’t work if he didn’t relax, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until it worked. He doubted this was how all adults lived, though it certainly would explain why they were so tired all the time. No wonder people got married; he imagined it made things like this much easier. Again, his mind wandered to the idea of Moomin, lying beside him, taking hold of his legs and-

“Ah,” Snufkin gasped, biting down on his lip. Good. Keep thinking of Moomin. Moomin wanting him. Moomin taking him, hard, breathing heavily as he held Snufkin down, took what he wanted, his breath hot and wet and-

He whimpered, covering his mouth with his paw. This was wrong, so wrong. If anyone found out… No. He wouldn’t let that happen. But he also didn’t know how much longer he could manage this. If he didn’t get rid of this ache soon-

Gasping, Snufkin squeezed his knees tight, blanket balling in his fist. Almost. Almost. Imagine it was Moomin. His pillow was Moomin’s snout, pressing to the back of his head, urging him on, wanting him to do this-

With a thunderclap of release, he groaned, feeling impossibly filthy. Slowly, he drew his hand from between his legs, staring at it. Disgusting. He was the worst friend ever.

Wiping it off on his nearby towel, Snufkin lay on his back, staring at the roof of his tent. At least it had gotten warmer again. Maybe he’d actually sleep through the rest of the night. Maybe. He hoped.


	9. In Which Snufkin Goes For A Walk

He was just being silly. Normally he cherished the opportunity to get inside his own head, think his own thoughts, but Snufkin had obviously gotten so wrapped up in them that he’d become a bit ridiculous. Puffing out the last remnants of his pipe, he dumped the spent ash on the sand, continuing on his walk. Besides, he had already been back in Moominvalley awful long. What he needed was to stop worrying; it wasn’t good for one’s health. No, he needed to take his freedom, seize the moment and clear his head. Putting on a smile, he forced himself to laugh out loud, convincing himself that yes, everything was fine, and he was feeling rather jovial indeed.

It was a perfectly lovely day, the type of day that ought to be spent with one’s dearest friends getting into mischief. Pulling his paws into his sleeves, Snufkin shivered against the cold ocean breeze. Later. There would be time for friends later. It was fundamentally important that one looked after one’s self, and he intended to do just that.

The nightmares had become persistent. Worse yet, the more he thought about them, the worse they seemed to become. Although, perhaps nightmare wasn’t quite the right word for it. Though he always awoke feeling stingingly guilty, he never seemed properly afraid during them. “All the more reason to put them out of your mind,” he told himself, continuing on. The sooner he got over this, whatever it was, the sooner he could begin seeing Moomintroll again. _Ah, Moomintroll,_ he thought with a smile. _What a fantastic beast._ He didn’t dare let himself think anything more than that. Poor Moomintroll, who had implored him to not be embarrassed of his new ridiculousness, who had declared that he was and would always be the same Snufkin. Poor Moomintroll; things would be easier if he had all the answers he thought he did. But Snufkin would protect him from that knowledge. He didn’t deserve to know such bad people exist, let alone one he thought of as his best friend. Plus, there was a bit of selfishness in the secret; if Snufkin didn’t tell him, then he didn’t have to talk about it. Better to suffer in silence than ruin anybody else’s day.

Walking along the beach, Snufkin breathed in the salty air. Yes, a bit of clean air and time alone- that was what he needed. He waved at a group of fishermen hauling in their catch.

“Having good luck?”

“Practically broke the nets.” One of the men, a Hemulen, tossed a net full of fish over the side onto the dock. Snufkin stared at it. It certainly was full. The man must be very strong.

“Any more and we’d need a second boat.” Another fisherman appeared, shorter than the first, whistling happily. Snufkin nodded, not at all appreciating the feeling it gave him. Normally he loved to pick up songs from other travelers, but right now, all he could focus on was the way the man’s mustache curled over his lip.

“You need any help, son?” The first fisherman asked, hauling another net overboard.

Snufkin shook his head, embarrassed to realize he had been staring. “No, just curious.”

The man gave him another confused smile before going back to his work. Snufkin watched the way his arms moved, muscles built and tanned from being on the open sea. He pictured himself in the boat at well, resting against the bow as they rowed out, the peaceful splash of the waves hitting the boat. He pictured the sun-glistening water, the way no one would be able to hear the things he shouted as the man took him into his calloused hands, caressed his body and then-

“I have to go.” Pivoting quickly, Snufkin walked, almost-ran in the opposite direction.

“Take care!” The man called after him, turning to his companion. “Funny creature.”

 

Okay, so maybe he didn’t need ocean air. Maybe what he needed was time out of the sun. That was probably it. Shivering, he walked along in the shade, shoulders pushed up so that his nose rested against his scarf. There. This was better already. Nobody nearby to distract him, and- His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wood splitting. Stopping mid-step, he turned slowly to his left, spotting a lumberjack. He swallowed hard. Nope. This was not what he needed. But also... Maybe it was? The man’s arms came up high above his head before crashing down, splitting a log cleanly. Woah. If he wanted to carry Snufkin off, he could just scoop him up in one hand. Take him back to his cabin, toss him down on the bed. He’d tell him to undress himself as he got the fire going (why was it so damn cold for the time of year?) finally turning to look him over with a critical eye, not saying anything as he pushed him back onto the mattress, climbed on top of him and-

“Oh, hello!” the man waved, cheery. “You’re friends with the Moomins, aren’t you? Tell Mamma I’ll have her order to her by next week!”

Squeaking, Snufkin sprinted off, hiding his face in his scarf as he ran. Oh this was no good, no good at all.


	10. In Which Moomin Languishes

“I can’t find Snufkin anywhere!”

“Figures.” Moomin sighed, snout resting on his paw. Snufkin was busier than ever nowadays, hardly ever stopping by to visit anymore.

“I worry about him.” Snorkmaiden drew her knees up, holding them in her paws.

“Snufkin doesn’t need worrying,” Sniff sat down beside his friends, lying on his back.

“Everyone needs worrying.”

“Sniff’s right; Snufkin is probably fine.” Moomin hoped that by reassuring his friends, he might reassure himself. It didn’t work. If only he could find out what Snufkin was thinking.

He let the conversation of the others drift into background noise as he thought. Maybe he could find some sort of spell that allowed him to hear thoughts. If he could figure out why Snufkin was avoiding him, then he could apologize properly. But no, witch magic had the potential to backfire, and heaven forbid Snufkin ended up hearing _his_ thoughts. There wouldn’t be enough apologies in the world. Staring at the grass, he pet it with his paw, wishing it was Snufkin. Snufkin with the lovely tail and beautiful face. Snufkin with the soft paws and gentle laugh, who always smelled of pipe smoke and citrus flowers and fresh mud. What if Moomin went and made up his campsite for him? Just cleaned it up a bit. Snufkin would come back, tired and sweaty from a long day of wandering. “I’m home, dear!” he would call, and Moomin could poke his head out, smiling. He’d press a kiss to Snufkin’s snout, ask him about his day. And Snufkin would sigh, explain how he had to be particularly valiant and brave and how all he wanted was a nice supper. And, surprise! Moomin would uncover the dish at table to reveal a perfectly cooked fish. “You always know just what I’m thinking,” Snufkin would laugh, kiss his forehead. “How did I ever get so lucky? I can’t believe that after all this time you were right in front of me and I took so long to see it! You are so beautiful. As a matter of fact, I am jealous of how handsome you are.” “The past is in the past,” Moomin would say, kiss his darling husband. “Say,” Snufkin would hold his paws, smiling his perfect smile, “do you think that after dinner we could go for a swim and kiss each other all over?”

“Moomin!” Moomin was rocked out of his fantasy by an elbow to his side. Sitting up, he saw a green hat bobbing towards them down the forest trail.

“Snufkin!”

“Moomintroll?” Snufkin sounded surprised to see him. Just as surprised by his friend’s arrival, Moomin looked at him. Snufkin’s skin was flushed, his scarf wrapped around his neck twice.

“Snufkin? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The two friends stared at each other a moment more. “Well, best be going!”

“Wait! Where are you off to?”

“Here and there. Nowhere in particular.”

“I’ll come with you!”

“No! Er, no.” Snufkin coughed into his paw, looking away.

“Oh.” Moomin’s ears went flat despite his best efforts to hide his disappointment.

“Nothing personal! I just- I have to go.” Running off again, Snufkin jogged past Moomin without offering any further explanation, his tail flipping back and forth rapidly.

“Something’s wrong with him.” Snorkmaiden looked over Moomin’s shoulder.

“I know. But he won’t tell me what.”

“You know how Snufkin is. He’ll come around.”

“Yeah,” Moomin sighed. “I hope so.”

 

... 

 

“I think Snufkin is sick.” Poking at his supper with a spoon, Moomin held his snout with his paw.

Little My muttered something unintelligible into her glass of milk.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” Ignoring her, Moominpappa looked up.

“I think he has a fever.”

“A fever you say?” Moominmamma hummed thoughtfully. “Well, be sure to tell him he’s always welcome to come over for some care and rest.”

“I tried to,” Moomin took a small bite of his food, not having the stomach to eat. “He says he’s fine though.”

“What makes you think he’s sick?”

“He’s always sweaty, and he keeps shivering all the time, no matter how warm it is. Even with all his new fur.”

Moominpappa cleared his throat, looking away as Little My laughed. “Yes, well. You know Snufkin. I’m sure he’ll sort it out just fine.”

“I just wish there was something I could do to help.”

Little My whispered into her glass again.

“That’s enough, My. No whispering to your milk at the table,” Moominmamma gently reprimanded her.

“Since when is that a rule?” Indignant, Little My set her glass down loudly.

“Since tonight.” Calmly, Mamma resumed buttering her bread. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine, Dear.”

“I hope so.” Moomin pushed his peas around, sighing.


	11. In Which Little My Interrupts Snufkin's Attempts At Cooking

“Moomin thinks you’re dying, y’know.” Little My whistled happily as she walked up the path to Snufkin’s tent.

“He knows very well that I’m not.” Cross at being intruded upon, Snufkin stared at his campfire, poking his stew with a spoon. Little My peered at the pot thoughtfully.

“Awful hot weather for stew, don’t you think?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Someone’s feeling snippy.” Crossing her arms, she cocked her hip to the side. “Maybe you are sick.”

“I’m not sick!” _Sick in the head, perhaps._

“Whatever you say.” Strolling around casually, Little My kept humming her tune. “Haven’t seen you around the house, lately.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With your stew?” Cocking an eyebrow, she laughed.

“If you’ve come to tell me something, you ought to tell me now.”

“What? I’m not allowed to just visit anymore?” Looking over her nails thoughtfully, Little My frowned, biting at one.

“Not if you’re just going to be a pest.” His tail flicked, betraying his irritation.

“I know what’s wrong with you.”

“No you don’t.”

“And I know who can help.”

Biting his tongue, Snufkin looked up suspiciously. “Not that I need help, but if I was-“

“You ought to talk to Mymble.”

“Sister Mymble?”

“No, I fully expect you to trot the globe looking for our mother.” Scoffing, Little My rolled her eyes. “Of _course_ sister Mymble.”

Snufkin considered the idea for half a second before abandoning it. No, he’d sooner die than have that conversation.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need anyone’s help. Everything is perfectly fine.”

“Suit yourself,” My shrugged. “Don’t go blaming me for never looking out for you.” Walking over to her, Snufkin spun her about, shoving her in the direction of Moominhouse. She kept talking as she walked. “All I’m saying is it’s hard work being older sister to an entire hoard of children, so if I’m making an effort, it’s really in your best interest to listen. But _no_ , why listen to Little My? She’s so little and always right! Why, if we listened to her, we wouldn’t have half so many problems and our lives would become so boring!” Her voice faded out, too far to be heard.

“Good night!” Snufkin called after her, sighing as he sat down by his campfire again. No, she couldn’t know. She probably thought he was still upset about the fur or whatever. He wished. Life was so much easier back then.

“Oh, Snufkin,” he sighed, stoking the fire. “What are you going to do?”


	12. In Which Moomin Does Not Think About It

Distraught, Moomin walked towards the stairs, tail slumped, dragging on the floor behind him. He hardly ever saw Snufkin anymore. Just a few minutes of being around him and the mumrik was taking off, shouting excuses as he ran. Everything was horrible.

“You’ve been hanging out with Snufkin, haven’t you?”

“Why?” Bitter, Moomin couldn’t keep the bite from his words.

“Tell him he needs to take a bath.” Wrinkling her nose, Little My went back to braiding together a few strands of yarn.

“I happen to like the way he smells!” Paws on his hips, Moomin frowned.

“I’m sure you do.” Still not looking up, she unraveled her work.

Not having the patience to deal with her nonsense, Moomin stalked upstairs, flopping down onto his bed with a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what she was talking about. Snufkin smelled delightful. Sweet and fragrant. If he could, he would love to bury his snout in his hair, breathe it all in. Feel Snufkin press against him, arch his back, let Moomin kiss his shoulder, tangle his fingers in his fur. He’d press his snout to the back of his neck, run his paws over Snufkin’s hips through his dark fur, taste how salty his sweat was as he slid inside him-

No! No. He was not doing this. He was not going to think these thoughts. Covering his ears with his paws, he squinted his eyes shut. He was not going to think about it! He wasn’t. And that was final.

 

Moomin couldn’t stop thinking about it. He knew, of course, that there was nothing wrong with mating or wanting to mate, or even daydreaming about it, but this was Snufkin! His Snufkin, sweet and gentle and not at all deserving to be the subject of his constant fixations.

Sitting on the rocks by the sea, he stared out at the water, moping. If he hadn’t gone and noticed how pretty Snufkin was, none of this would have happened. Surely there were other pretty people in Moominvalley? _None like Snufkin_ , he thought sadly. It truly was awful, trying to find a love more fulfilling than your best friend. No one else could compare.

“What’s wrong, Moomintroll?”  
“Oh, hey, Sniff.”

“We’re going to pick mushrooms in the forest. Do you want to come?” Having a bit more tact, Snorkmaiden bypassed pushing the issue. She really was wonderful, and she did know him well. It was a shame she wasn’t Snufkin.

His instinct was to say no. What he really wanted to do was continue sitting on the rocks, gazing longingly at the sea. But that wouldn’t do him any good. One can only be melancholic so long before it stops being fun.

“Sure.” Not managing a proper level of enthusiasm, Moomin hopped down, his tail thudding on the sand heavily. Snorkmaiden and Sniff stared at it.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Sniff rubbed his neck awkwardly. “We just thought you might like to.”

“No, I’m sorry. I really do. It’ll be fun.” Smiling, Moomin straightened his posture. It was going to be fun. It was.

“Alright?” Still uncertain, Snorkmaiden looked at him with something like concern, but again said nothing, knowing now was not the time. “Let’s go, then.”

Mustering up all the energy he could, Moomin trudged along behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends and fiends alike! I have put together a blog (confetti popping noise) specifically for this and the rest of my Moomin fics! You can find me on tumblr @ OurLittleSecretMoomin (creative, I know). Stop by, say hi, talk to me!   
> As always, your comments and questions and rants are super appreciated, and I'm doing what I can to respond to all of them!  
> Lots of love and melancholic longing, and
> 
> Cheers


	13. In Which Snufkin Accidently Makes Friends

Solitude. He needed solitude. If he wasn’t near anybody he couldn’t think about them, and if he couldn’t think about them- Snufkin pulled his hat down tighter. Well, then he couldn’t think about them.

It wasn’t exactly a foolproof plan, and he was fool enough to poke plenty of holes in it. He had to go home eventually. He was bound to see Moomin again. And if he didn’t, wasn’t that much worse? He debated the thought in his mind. Maybe he didn’t deserve to see Moomin anymore. Maybe he had spent so long making himself lonesome that his body had finally revolted, throwing him headlong into whatever this mess was. Shivering, he pulled his scarf tighter. Maybe what he needed was to head to the hot spring, just to warm up.

Staring at the ground, Snufkin didn’t see the fillyjonk heading towards him until he had already barreled into her, knocking both of them to the ground.

“Oh!” Falling backwards, she stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Standing up, Snufkin helped pull her to her feet.

“Not to worry,” sore, she brushed some dirt from her skirt.

“No, I am. I should have been looking where I was going. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Sorry again.”

“Not a problem.” She glanced about herself. “I don’t suppose you could tell me if I’m on the right path to Moominvalley?”

“Oh, sure. Not far at all.”

“Fantastic! I’m trying to get back to the Grove.”

“There’s a faster route, if you want it. This road will take you there, but you’d be better off on the smaller path.”

“Thank you, young man.” She peered over his shoulder. “And whereabouts is that?”

“I’ll take you; it isn’t far from here.”

“I’m not interrupting your plans, am I?”

“No, of course not. I was just wandering.”

“How lucky I bumped into you then.” Smiling, she took his arm.

“It’s the least I could do.” Tilting his hat, Snufkin guided her back down the road.

 

“And there’s my house! Oh, I really can’t thank you enough.” The fillyjonk clasped her paws together, turning to face Snufkin.

“Not a problem. Glad I could be of help.”

“Won’t you come in? Let me get you a glass of water or some food.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a coffee, if you don’t mind.” Even in the sunnier parts of the grove, there was still a nipping chill to the air.

“Splendid!” Smiling, she opened the door, beckoning him inside. “Mind your step; I have quite a mess left to clean.”

A few minutes later and Snufkin was sitting at the cleanest kitchen table he had ever seen, gratefully cupping a hot mug between his paws. “Where are you coming back from?”

“Not far. I went to visit an aunt of mine.” Closing the cabinet doors, the fillyjonk poured herself a glass of juice, sitting opposite him.

“Have you been gone long?”

“Not terribly.”

“Trips never seem long enough, do they?”

“No, but it is good to be back. There’s no feeling better.”

“Oh, you’re home!” A tall, thin man appeared in the open window, resting his arms on the sill. Snufkin’s stomach dropped.

“Oh, yes! I got back early, thanks to this young man!” She gestured to Snufkin across the table. “This is my neighbor,” she explained. “He’s been watching the house for me.”

Tilting his hat, the neighbor smiled. “How do you do?”

Flushed, Snufkin nodded back, holding his mug much tighter than necessary. “Hello.”

“Won’t you come in? We’re just having a chat!” _Oh no. Oh please no._

“Well, as long as you’re offering.” He stepped inside, the sound of the door heavy in Snufkin’s ears. “This woman makes the best berry juice east of the valley!”

“Oh, you!” Laughing, fillyjonk pulled a pitcher from the fridge, pouring another glass.

Extending a paw for a handshake, the man turned his eyes back to Snufkin, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

“Snufkin,” Snufkin shivered at how tight the man’s grip was, catching his tail behind his leg so that it would stop flicking about.

“Snufkin. I’m Roy.” Sitting down next to him, Roy let go of his paw. Snufkin pressed his knees together. “You from around here?”

“Just a bit to the west.” _Don’t say anything embarrassing. Don’t say anything embarrassing._

The man looked him over quizzically. “Say, aren’t you one of Mymble’s boys?”

Snufkin flushed from tip to toe. “Yes. Er, I was.”

“Was?”

“Still am, I suppose. You can’t outgrow your mother, can you?” He laughed awkwardly as the other two just looked at him.

“Right,” the man chuckled uncomfortably.

“Snufkin saved me near half a day’s travel with his cleverness.” The fillyjonk sat down at the table. What was her name again?

“Is that right?” Roy’s tone went light. “You good with maps?”

“I’ve just walked about enough to know how things connect.”

“Ah, an explorer.” Roy leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. “You ever see anything exciting?”

Snufkin forced himself not to stare at Roy’s open lap. Truly, there was nothing in the world more exciting at this moment. It would be so easy, to straddle him, beg for him to take pity. Roy would probably laugh, those firm hands pressing to his hips, tongue sliding over his throat, asking if Snufkin wanted to make a map of him. And he did. He so very badly did. He wanted Roy to toss him onto the sofa, pull his hips up and whisper laughing remarks against his back about what a good boy he was. He wanted-

“Hattifatteners,” Snufkin blurted. His two new friends nodded, as if to prompt him on. “I have to go.” Standing up quickly, Snufkin pushed his chair back in behind him.

“Wait, you haven’t even finished your coffee!”

“Delicious! Thank you so much! Take care!” Sprinting away, Snufkin pulled his hat down as he barreled back into the woods, leaving his very confused company behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a dream someone wrote a Snufkin/Roy fic and I was so touched I cried
> 
> Cheers


	14. In Which Little My Is A Snitch

“Where are you off to?”

“I’m going on a trip.” Snufkin zipped his rolled mat onto the top of his bag.

“To where?”

“I don’t know just yet.”

Little My frowned. “How long will you be gone?”

He shrugged. “Until I’m back.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Positive.” Snufkin shouldered his bag. He needed to get out, go away to somewhere where nobody knew him. This thing, whatever it was, wasn’t going away anytime soon, and he couldn’t risk breaking Moomin’s heart with his newfound awfulness.

“But where will you go?”

“I’ll probably head through the Lonely Mountains. After that,” Snufkin shielded his eyes with his paw, “I don’t know.”

“I really don’t think you should.” Uncharacteristically nervous, Little My looked off down the path.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” And if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t be anybody else’s problem.

“At least say goodbye to Moomin.”

“Moomin knows how these things are.”

“But if you’re not coming back-“

“I’ll be back.” _He hoped._ “I just don’t know when.”

“Snufkin-“

“It’s fine, My! Now, don’t try to stop me, and please, won’t you stay out of trouble?”

“Speak for yourself.” Crossing her arms tightly, she glared at the ground.

“Oh, and do me a favor,” Snufkin paused, looking back at her. “Don’t tell Moomin just yet.” The last thing he needed was for Moomin to come chasing after him.

“If you don’t come back alive, I’ll kill you!”

“Goodbye, My.” Gripping his bag, he started down the path.

 

 

 

“Moomin! Moomin!” There was a knock at his window. Turning to look, Moomin was surprised to see Little My hitting at the glass.

“Little My! What are you doing?”

“It was quicker than the front door.” She slid inside, landing easily. Waving her paws in the air, she fixed her face back into a look of panic. “It’s an emergency!”

“Emergency? What sort of emergency?” _Perhaps they’d found another shipwreck. Or better yet, some cursed treasure. That would keep him busy_.

“It’s Snufkin!”

“Snufkin?” Moomin’s ears perked up as he peered out the window. Snufkin’s tent was gone. “Where is he?”

“He left! On a trip!”

“Oh?” Again, sorrow weighed heavy on Moomin’s chest. “Snufkin often leaves on trips.” He didn’t even bother to say goodbye, though… He’d been avoiding Moomin for weeks now. Maybe everything was finally over. Maybe he was finally never coming back.

“No, he’s really,” My hesitated, bobbing her head back and forth, “sick. Very sick! You have to catch him before he gets into any trouble!”

“Snufkin can handle himself.” Moomin sat on the bed with a huff. If Snufkin didn’t want to be friends anymore, that was his prerogative.

“You’re not listening to me!” Little My jumped onto the bed beside him, holding his snout firmly between her paws so that Moomin had no choice but to look at her. “If Snufkin goes feeling the way he does right now, there is a one hundred percent chance he will end up in danger! Real danger! Deadly danger!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so frightened.” Her conviction was scaring him. Sure, Little My had a tendency to exaggerate things, but she seemed genuinely worried. What if she was right? What if Snufkin was in real danger?

“You have to catch him!” Stomping her feet, she just ended up bouncing lightly on the mattress. “Please, Moomin! I’ll do all your chores! I’ll- I’ll give you my secret stash of jam!”

Moomin’s ears went back. This _was_ serious.

“Alright, fine.” Standing up, he sighed. “Which way did he go?”

“To the Lonely Mountains! Hurry!”

“Okay! Geez. I just need to pack a bag and then-“

“There’s no time! He’s already left!” Using all her strength, My shoved him towards the window. “You have to catch up! _Please_ , Moomin!”

“I’m going! I’m going. Sheesh.” Climbing out his window, Moomin tried to ignore the horrible sinking feeling in his gut. If anything happened to Snufkin… Well, he didn’t know what he’d do.

 


	15. In Which Snufkin Needs Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning this chapter for sexual harassment. 
> 
> More detailed warning in the notes at the end for people who want to check out the trigger warnings before reading

 The walk was a pleasant one. Snufkin took his time with it, playing his harmonica as he went. The air seemed particularly fragrant despite the chill, and as he walked, he felt lighter with every step. Soon he’d be far away enough that he wouldn’t be able to hurt his friends even if he tried. Sure, he was sad to go, but it was the noble thing to do. If he couldn’t protect Moomin from his thoughts, he could at least protect him from himself.

There were still a few hours until sundown. He’d made great time. Seeing a small wooden building up ahead, Snufkin slowed his song. It wouldn’t be the worst idea to take a break, refill his canteen. After all, he had left with very little preparation. Making up his mind, he continued straight to the building, hesitating only a moment at the “open” sign. Pushing with all his strength, he finally got the heavy door to open.

The room was large, taking up the entire building. Dark too. Perfect--no one would recognize him. A few patrons turned and looked as he walked into the tavern, putting their snouts up in the air curiously. He bundled his scarf closer to his face, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Can I get some water?” Standing on tiptoe at the bar, he spoke to a gruff Hemulen. “Take a seat,” the man didn’t even look up, wiping down a glass with a rag. “Someone will be with you.”

“Thank you.” Still humming his cheery tune, Snufkin slid into a booth at the far back. Wonderful. No one could possibly notice him here. This was an excellent plan.

A few of the patrons kept staring at him, some muttering to each other with laughs. No doubt they were poking fun at how out-of-place he seemed. It didn’t matter. _Let them laugh_ , he thought. It didn’t bother him.

“You here alone?”

Snufkin looked up to see two very large men looking down at him.

“Oh. No, I’m expecting someone,” he lied.

“Care for company until they arrive?”

“We brought you a drink.” One of the men slid a glass towards Snufkin across the table. It smelled strong, bitter.

“I’m fine, thank you though.” He stared at their hands, at how large they were. Why, if they wanted, they could pick him up, no trouble at all. Shove him against the wall… Snufkin swallowed hard, stared at the table. Oh no. Not here. Not now.

“Never seen such pretty fur.” One of the men leaned in, twirling Snufkin’s hair with his fingers, tugging just a bit too hard for it to be accidental. “What do they call little things like you?”

Snufkin panicked, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to give them his real name, but in his fear he couldn’t come up with a convincing enough lie. “Mymble. I’m a mymble.”

“Not all mymble, though.” The other man slid into the booth across from him, took one of his paws between two large hands, feeling his fur with rough fingers. “Sure, you’re cute enough, but I’ve never seen a face like that on a mymble.”

“Sure, I’m sure there’s… other… things in there.” Snufkin laughed uncomfortably, tried to pull away from the prying hands, but he’d run out of space to retreat into. His breath went shallow as the man beside him leaned in close enough that their legs were touching. The proximity was stifling, and Snufkin was terrified that any moment now, he might begin to cry.

“Mixed, oh sure, sure. Your lot always are the cutest. Rare catch, but very fun when you can manage it. They got a word for people like you, don’t they?”

“I’m sure-“

“Have you heard of lot lizards?”

“Oh, sorry. Fur, not scales.” Snufkin held his paw up as if to demonstrate. The men laughed. “Sorry. I really ought to-“ He almost ducked beneath the table to escape, but a hand on his knee stopped him, the first man pushing the proffered drink back towards him.

“What’s your rush? It’s impolite to decline a gift.”

“I appreciate it, but-“

Fingers continue to card through his hair as the man’s other hand pushed against his thigh. Snufkin wanted to close his eyes, to wish this all away, to wish it gone and over and never having happened at all. This was another nightmare; it had to be. It had to be. So why was he so afraid?

“Question,” the man across from him leaned in, his voice low and deep. Despite himself, despite the terror and horror, he shivered, his body obviously not in contact with his mind. “You say you’re part mymble. Which parts?” Snufkin squirmed, hands balled into fists and tail smacking rapidly against the seat as the man behind him pushed his hair aside, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m not-“

“Come on, enough games now. Everyone in the building could smell it as soon as you walked in. You can hardly blame us.” The man across from him leaned back, resting his elbows on the back of the booth, letting his foot trail up Snufkin’s calve. “You’re lucky we came along first; a pretty thing like you wouldn’t last long.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Snufkin pulled his hat down tighter over his forehead and the men laughed.

Wrapping an arm around him, the man closest leaned in. “How much longer before you’re finished playing coy?”

“I’m not playing coy,” he shivered, freezing despite the sweat running down his back.

“Good. So how do you feel about getting out of here?”

“I don’t want that, please leave me alone.” And he didn’t want it, he really _really_ didn’t, but his belly was tight at the thought, and he hated the fact that his body flared up again, blood rising to his cheeks as the men laughed.

“Sure, sure you don’t. How long before you change your mind, though?”

“I’m not-“

“I give it until nightfall, tops.”

“Nightfall? I don’t think he’ll even make it to the end of his sentence.”

“Please just-“

“Please, what?” The man pulled on his hair again, laughing as Snufkin winced. “You know, you could be the sweetest piece I ever had.” Before Snufkin could even begin to think of a reply, the man across from his pushed his foot between Snufkin’s, forcing his legs open. Taking that as a sign to go ahead, the man beside him gripped Snufkin’s chin, tilting it up and leaning in.

“Snufkin!”

“Moomin!” Snufkin shoved the man’s face away with great relief, climbing over the table in his desperation for escape.

“Hold on, hold on, we’ve got dibs!” The man at the far side of the table stood up quickly, snatching Snufkin by his coat and lifting him up into the air. Snufkin’s legs kicked into the nothingness, shame setting in as the other patrons stared.

“If you don’t put him down right now, I will hurt you.” Moomin was furious, but in his voice there was none of the terror that Snufkin was currently overwhelmed by. There was, however, a low rumble to his tone. Was that a growl? Did moomins growl? To his infinite horror, the sound went straight to Snufkin’s groin, and he hoped his whimper could be mistaken for fear.

“You’re going to hurt me? How?” There was a laugh in the man’s voice, not cruel, just amused.

Still perfectly brave, Moomin stepped forward. “You have until the count of three to let go, and then I am going to bite your arm off.”

“Bite my arm off?” The man laughed uncomfortably. “There’s two of us. You can’t bite off all our arms!”

“One.”

“What type of joke is this?”

“Two.”

“I’d listen to him, Sir,” Snufkin kept squirming, hoping he might eventually land a blow.

“Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now?” The other man stepped in, scoffing. Moomin snarled, his lips pulled back and- Oh my. Had Snufkin really never noticed how sharp his teeth were before?”

“This is ridiculous! Hey, isn’t there any sense of decorum anymore?”

“We had dibs, fair and square.”

“Th-“

“Fine, take him. They’re a dime a dozen this time of year anyway.” Before Moomin even finished, the man tossed Snufkin over towards him. Scrambling quickly, he grabbed onto Moomin’s arm, heart soaring out through his chest as he happily flapped his tail in a motion that could only be described as wagging.

Muttering quietly, they retook their seats in Snufkin’s vacated booth.

“No sort of respect.”

“It’s a shame, too. I-“

Snufkin didn’t get to hear why it was a shame, suddenly busy being dragged outside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW-
> 
> In this chapter, Snufkin gets sexually harassed by two large men who keep making remarks to him about his appearance and scent. 
> 
> They buy him a drink and try to coerce him into going home with them. Before the altercation gets physical, Moomin comes in and saves Snufkin. No physical harm is done, and no violence is enacted.


	16. In Which Snufkin And Moomin Have A Frank Discussion

Snufkin blinked in the harsh light, taking a moment to readjust. Letting go, Moomin marched on back down the path towards Moominvalley.

“Moomin!”

“Not now, Snufkin.” Despite the success of his rescue, Moomin was still angry, and sped up to walk ahead of him. The distance put a pang in Snufkin’s heart, brutal and painful. He slunk along behind his friend, discovering previously unknown levels of shame as he let his tail drag behind him in the dirt.

“I didn’t-“

“I said _not now_!” There was harshness in Moomin’s voice that had never been there before, and it scared Snufkin. He was in real trouble now; after all his planning, he had still ruined everything.

Anxiously, Snufkin followed the fuming Moomintroll at a respectful distance, terrified of being left behind but even more afraid of what Moomin might think of him. After a considerable length, he tried apologizing again.

“Moomin, I-“

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Snufkin flinched at his best friend’s language, decided now was not the time to reprimand him for it. “I-“

“No, let me finish! I know you need your space, but that? What you just did back there?” Moomin pointed down the empty trail. “That was stupid and reckless and SELFISH! You could have been killed! You’re lucky Little My is such a snitch, or else you could have been seriously hurt! You could have been kidnapped, Snufkin, or you could have DIED and I would have had no idea! Seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Snufkin began crying, face buried in his paws as all the terror and guilt and relief flooded over him. “I’m sorry, Moomin, I didn’t mean- I didn’t know- I’m sorry! I’m sorry!“

“What’s going on, Snuf?” All the anger dissipated from Moomin’s voice, replaced with exasperation. “What’s happening with you?”

“I don’t know- I didn’t mean-“ Trying to catch his breath, Snufkin wiped at his eyes furiously with his paws. Moomin sighed. “I didn’t mean to upset you! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days now, and when I finally do get to see you, it’s only to pry you from a stranger’s paws!”

Reliving the memory, Snufkin nodded, feeling that same excitement flood his belly. Oh no, not again. Really? Moomin was right; what was wrong with him? Here he was listening to his friend explain how hurt he was, and all Snufkin could focus on was the way Moomin’s voice had sounded when he’d snatched him away. Quite easily, too. So powerful. Why, if he wanted, Moomin could pick him up right now, throw his back against a tree and work out his anger by-

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Snufkin began weeping again. “But something’s wrong and I don’t know how to fix it and it isn’t your fault so I don’t want to make it your problem but also I think I’m sick and might also be a bad person now!” He was sobbing with his whole body, shoulders shaking as he covered his face so that Moomin, sweet Moomin, loving Moomin, couldn’t see him, couldn’t see how terrible he really was.

“Hey! Snuf! Hey!” Moomin stroked his arm with his paw. “It’s alright!”

But it wasn’t alright, and Snufkin had to grit his teeth to keep from purring, the flare of heat in his body demanding that he grab onto Moomintroll as tightly as he could, tackle him to the ground and use his body to finally, finally relieve himself of this impossible itch.

“You don’t understand!” he pushed away, crossing his arms over his body, still shivering as if left in the snow. Why was he so damn cold?

“Of course I don’t understand! Not if you won’t even try to explain.”

Shuddering, Snufkin stared at the ground, tried not to think of how good it would feel if his friend were to come up behind him and bend him over.

“I can’t explain.” Snufkin continued crying, desperately and fearfully alone in his secret, tail whipping back and forth anxiously. “You’ll hate me!”

“Snufkin.” Moomin sighed, but the sound was… Amused? Almost as if he had said something funny. “What could ever _possibly_ make me hate you?”

His paws went to Snufkin’s face, brushing the tears from his cheeks. He nuzzled into the touch, still crying silently as Moomin stroked him.

“I’m a bad person now.”

“You did something bad or you _are_ bad?”

“I _am_ bad. Or, I want to _do_ something bad.”

“What kind of bad?”

“Cruel bad.”

“Cruel like stepping on someone’s tail on purpose?”

“Kind of, but no. Cruel like lying and tricking.”

“Alright, that’s not so terrible. Why don’t you start by telling me who you’re tricking?”

“I’m trying not to! That’s the problem.” Keeping his eyes shut tight, Snufkin forced himself to take a breath, the end result sounding rather pathetic. “I don’t want to trick anybody, but it’s my nature.“

“Your nature is telling you to trick people?”

“Well, not trick exactly.”

“Then what, exactly?” There was a heavy silence as Snufkin opened his eyes just enough to stare at the ground, feeling the weight of his shame. “It’s okay,” Moomin brushed a stray tear away. “You can tell me.”

“No. You’ll hate me for it.”

“You can’t hate someone for having a thought. If your nature wanted you to do something bad and it _didn’t_ bother you, that would be a bigger problem, wouldn’t it?”

Reluctantly, Snufkin nodded. “I guess… But it’s pretty bad.”

“Nothing can be bad enough to make me hate you. Unless… You haven’t fallen in love with Stinky, have you?”

“What!” In his shock and disgust, Snufkin’s head shot up. Moomin chuckled, taking the opportunity to stroke his face.

“There you are. I knew my Snufkin was hiding inside somewhere.” Gently he brushed Snufkin’s hair back, catching the last teardrops with his fingers. “Now won’t you _please_ tell me what’s been bothering you?”

Snufkin hesitated, picking his words carefully. “I’ve been having these… bad thoughts.”

Moomin nodded gently, encouraging him to continue. Snufkin took another breath.

“I can’t control them, or when they happen. But they do happen, almost all of the time. And when I have them, I get this feeling? Right here?” He placed a paw over his lower belly. “And… I don’t know. I get all hot and flustered and upset. And then I smell different? I guess? The men at the tavern could smell the bad thoughts on me.”

“Alright,” Moomin nodded calmly. “What are the thoughts about?”

A series of images flashed through Snufkin’s mind. “Bodies. My body. Um… Touching. Touching other people. Other people touching me.”

“Just… touching?”

“More than touching.” Embarrassed, Snufkin looked upwards as if in deep examination of the treetops. “People, er, being… Physical. With me. You know. Mating.”

“Alright. And the bad thoughts?”

“Those are the bad thoughts.”

Moomin sighed heavily, bringing up his paws to rub his eyes. If he could, Snufkin would have sank right into the earth.

“Okay, Snuf.” Clasping his paws together, Moomin breathed in slowly. “How much do you know about how mumriks are made?”

“I know the Mymble makes a lot of them.”

“Yes,” Moomin hedged his words. “And do you know how she makes them?”

“I know what mating is, Moomin.” Snufkin put his hands on his hips, indignant. “If anything, that’s the problem!”

“No, Snufkin- Has anyone ever sat down and explained it to you, though?”

“No reason to. I already know all about it.” He tapped his foot, deeply uncomfortable.

“Okay. I need you to listen to me.” Moomin touched his arms lightly. “You are not bad. You are just in heat.”

“It’s almost fall. The weather’s only getting colder.”

“No, no. Not heat, _heat._ You are- Your body is-“ Apparently feeling just as awkward about this whole thing, Moomin rubbed the back of his head. “Oh geez. Okay. Well, when Pappa told me about it-“

“You two talked about me?” Embarrassed and betrayed, Snufkin felt his face flush at the idea of the Moomins discussing his dark secret.

“No! No. Not you specifically. It’s just a thing that happens to some people. It all depends on how you’re…” Moomin gestured vaguely in the air, “built.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“Well,” Moomin hummed, shy once again. “The way Pappa explained it, just like how we hibernate, some creatures’… bodies… hibernate. And when they wake up, they need to let them know that it’s… time.”

“Time for what?” Oh lord, was he going to die? Was this how it all ended?

“Time to…” Moomin gestured vaguely again. “Y’know.”

“Time to leave for winter?”

“Time to mate.”

Oh LORD no. But also… “Oh boy.” Snufkin stared intently as the tree canopy again, missing the days when he still retained a shred of dignity. “Seems like an awful lot of fuss over nothing.”

“Yeah,” Moomin cleared his throat. “That’s probably why you’ve been so flighty and smell different.”

“You can smell it too?” Snufkin looked at his friend with surprise.

Bashful, Moomin looked down at the ground, kicking at the dirt. “Yeah. I just thought you were hanging out near the honeysuckle grove more often.”

“Huh.” Shy now too, Snufkin watched his friend draw in the dirt with his toe.

“You’ve been running around so much, I could hardly keep track.”

“Oh, well. It’s just hard for me to stay in one place long.”

“Does- Is that a side effect too?”

“Not really. It’s just the thoughts- They’re easier to keep from focusing on certain people if I’m alone.”

“Oh.” Moomin paused, leaning down to pick up a small rock. “So you have the thoughts about specific people?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Who I’m around.”

“So the men at the tavern-“

“I did NOT want to mate with them.”

“No, no, of course not.” Moomin shook his head, frowning at the stone in his hand. It was quite a good stone and Snufkin decided he would like to stare at it as well. “Because they’re men?”

“No, because I did not want to mate with them, specifically. Which is frustrating, because I don’t think my body cares what my thoughts want.”

“So even though you weren’t thinking about them-“

“I _was_ thinking about them. Not on purpose, though. It was more like my body was thinking about them? And they noticed. Apparently I smell quite a lot.”

“Oh yes, it’s very strong.”

“You can smell it right now?”

“More than ever.”

“That’s…” Snufkin paused, horrified. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Moomin turned the stone over in his hand, giving them a new side to examine. “I like it. I like it a lot, actually.”

“Oh, okay. So… Did Moominpappa tell you- Do you know how long-“

“Until you’ve mated.” Turning, Moomin nonchalantly tossed the stone into the woods, hitting a tree. He had really great aim.

“Ah.” Picking up his own rock, Snufkin took aim and missed. “Well then.”

“Yeah. I would do it soon, too, because apparently it only gets worse.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.” They filled the pauses between their words with the dull thud of rocks hitting the forest floor.

“So,” Moomin aimed, hitting another perfect mark. “Do you have anyone in particular that could… y’know?”

“I think the longer this goes on, the less particular the thoughts will get, so I’d better choose now, right?”

“That makes sense.” Pausing, Moomin cleared his throat again as he searched the ground for another rock. “Have you… Have you ever had any thoughts with me in them?”

Turning his back to Moomin, Snufkin stared intently at a nearby pine tree. “Yes.”

“So you really are getting desperate.” Moomin laughed uncomfortably, the sound forced.

“Not really. That’s why I had to stop hanging out with you.”

“Oh?” Lovely friend that he was, Moomin did his best impression of disinterest.

“Yeah.” Nervous, Snufkin fidgeted with his hat. “By the way, thanks for saving me.”

“Of course, of course.” Moomin sounded distracted, but Snufkin didn’t dare turn around to look at his face. “So,” Moomin shuffled about, “your thoughts.”

“Yes?”

“What… What exactly happens in them?”

Snufkin took a sharp breath in, shivering at the memories. “Nothing too interesting.”

“But just supposing I was interested. What happens, for example, I don’t know, in the thoughts about me?”

His thoughts about Moomin? Oh. “I can’t tell you about those,” Snufkin began to wring his paws, a habit he had picked up from his friend.

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What about it is embarrassing?”

“Because. It’s about… You know. Mating.”

“That’s… not a bad thing. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know that!” No, of course he didn’t know that. Turning to face his friend, Snufkin crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

“It’s a natural thing, Snuf. A lot of creatures do it.”

“Yes, I know. It’s still embarrassing though.”

“Okay.” Moomin scratched his ear, still deep in thought. “So. When you have the… feelings… even if your thoughts don’t like someone, or you don’t want to mate with them but you still have the thoughts…”

“Yes?”

“Have you… When you think about mating with me-“ Moomin paused, trying to find words that weren’t there.

“I-“ Snufkin coughed into his fist, looking away again. “I actually think that you might have somehow-“ Desperate to make this sound as not-creepy as possible, Snufkin began to pick at the end of his scarf. “So if Moominpappa is right, and it works like hibernation, I think you might actually be the Spring, or whatever? The thing that woke me up? That or you were just in the wrong place at the exact wrong time.”

“Oh,” Moomin flushed, tail whipping back and forth. “Oh my.”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s not just a heat thing?”

“It most definitely is a heat thing in that I would never be half so crass, but also, no. It’s not _just_ a heat thing.”

“Okay, okay.” Moomin nodded quietly, the two friends staring at the ground between them. “I don’t have heats,” Moomin gestured towards himself, sounding very matter-of-fact.

“I gathered.”

“Oh.” The two went quiet again. “I mean, if I did- If I was also- Er- Are you sure you can’t tell me what types of thoughts you had about me?”

Figuring his dignity was already shot, Snufkin re-crossed his arms tightly over himself, shivering. “Well. When we were in the tavern-“

“Yes?”

“And you ran in and yelled at that man?”

“I remember.”

“That was…” Snufkin could feel his eyes glaze over. “That gave me some… really nice thoughts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean ever since we left I can’t stop thinking about you using that voice to tell me to bend myself over that log for you.” Snufkin pointed to a large felled tree, which Moomin silently regarded.

“I… don’t think I could handle yelling at you again.”

“No! I know. Of course,” Snufkin shook his head emphatically, embarrassed all over again.

“But…” Moomin shrugged, flushed, “I could ask you nicely if you had any interest in the moss pile behind it.”

“I love moss, but I don’t think now is the time.”

“No! I mean,” Moomin cleared his throat, placing his hands on his hips, “I want you to let me take care of you!”

Everything inside Snufkin positively melted as Moomin’s ears went back, face stern as he held back the apology he very obviously wanted to make.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes!” He kept his voice low despite the smile threatening his demeanor. “If you don’t mind I-“ Nervous now, he broke character, clearing his throat to re-deepen his tone. “I would very much like to mate with you, and I have for a long time, and I think now is probably a good time to tell you that. Okay?”

“Moomin,” despite his shaking knees, Snufkin forced himself back into reality, petting his friend’s face. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but you don’t have to-“

“No, Snuf, I’m serious.” Moomin’s voice went back to its normal pitch as he grabbed onto Snufkin’s arms, keeping him close. “I’m just so relieved that you came out and said it first.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Snufkin’s eyebrows arched, absolute shock rocking his frame.

“Oh, yeah. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but, uh,” Staring at his paws, Moomin pet the soft fur along Snufkin’s arm, “I’ve perhaps been… a little _too_ interested in… Whatever all this is.”

“I just thought you were just being a good friend.”

“No, totally selfish.” Moomin fidgeted, embarrassed. “I mean, of course you’ve always been gorgeous, but all this?” Cupping Snufkin’s face again, Moomin brushed his fingers over his cheekbones. “I rather like it. And I rather like you.” To his embarrassment, Snufkin whined, pressing his cheek into Moomin’s palm, causing his friend to laugh. “Right, okay. Well, why don’t you tell me some more about your thoughts? What would you like?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. I just- Are you sure?”

As way of answer, Moomin nuzzled Snufkin’s nose with his snout, causing him to giggle as he tilted his face up. Sighing happily, Snufkin finally relaxed into his nature, letting his paws tangle up into Moomin’s fur, elated when Moomin wrapped his arms around him, lifting him up.

“Alright,” carrying him over to the promised patch of moss behind the log, Moomin set Snufkin down gently.

“I won’t break, you don’t have to be careful,” Snufkin lay down, arching his back as Moomin leaned over him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, but-“ Gasping he moaned as Moomin kissed his neck, his hips frantically pushing up against Moomin’s.

“Is that okay?”

Unable to speak, Snufkin nodded, biting his lip hard to keep more embarrassing sounds from leaking through. Still gentle, Moomin nuzzled the side of his face, awakening every nerve in his body.

“Moomin-“ Snufkin managed to force his friend’s name out without unnecessarily drawing it over a groan.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just- I don’t want to surprise you with- Are you sure-“

“Relax. All you have to worry about is telling me if you stop enjoying yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he was positively breathless with the way Moomin’s voice sounded when whispered against his skin.

“Is there anywhere you don’t want me touching?”

“Nowhere,” he groaned, bucking up again, hoping for more friction. “Please, just- Please keep touching me.“

“Okay. I want to try something. Let me know if it isn’t okay.”

Again Moomin’s voice dropped low, but it wasn’t forced this time. It was the same steady assurance he had in the tavern, calm and ready. Mute, Snufkin nodded, whining as Moomin gently unwrapped his scarf, plucking off Snufkin’s hat and tucking it inside. Eager to help, Snufkin got tangled up in his tunic, requiring Moomin to take a moment to undo enough of the buttons to rescue him. Next, he pulled off Snufkin’s boots, batting his paws away when he tried to help.

Nuzzling him again, Moomin laid him down on the soft earth, shivers running all over Snufkin’s skin and through his fur, making his tail dance about as Moomin kissed his nose, his shoulder, his face.

And then he was groaning, lifting his hips up to help as Moomin tucked his paws into the waist of his pants, pulling them off. Dizzy with need, Snufkin closed his eyes, becoming anxious at the silence. Eventually, the quiet was more terrifying than the noise, and so he peeked, flushing red all over at the expression on Moomin’s face. It was something like curiosity, or at least so he hoped. The only thing stronger than his desire was his embarrassment, and so, sitting up, Snufkin closed his knees, prompting Moomin to look up, as if startled out of thought.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to- I know it’s weird. Thanks for trying, anyway, but-“ His apologies were cut off as Moomin kissed his nose again, nuzzling into his cheek.

“No! No. I’m sorry, it’s just. Wow.”

“That weird?”

“That lovely.” Leaning Snufkin back again, Moomin pet the downy fur along his legs. “I was wrong. It’s not just honeysuckle. There’s something else, too. Something stronger. Like fresh cut wood.”

Snufkin groaned, covering his face. “How embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing about it?” Kissing his knees, Moomin continued petting along his thighs. “It’s nice. And it lets me know you’re excited.”

“I am.” Face still covered, Snufkin unsuccessfully tried to keep his tail from twitching about.

“I’m sorry for staring, I just had no idea.”

“No idea about what?”

“How pretty you would look.”

Shivering, Snufkin groaned, covering his entire face with his arms, but he did let his knees part a little.

“Really?”

“Really.” Moomin rested his snout against Snufkin’s legs. “I’d like to be honest with you, if that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright. Well, I know you can’t help your thoughts because you’re in heat,” the words, as unsexy as they were, sent little shudders scurrying all over Snufkin’s body, “and I’m almost jealous, because at least you have an excuse.”

“Pardon?”

“I think about you a lot.” Moomin’s paws tightened against Snufkin’s thighs, nervous, and he relaxed into the warm grip. “Especially since all of this,” reaching up, Moomin ruffled the fur on Snufkin’s belly, causing him to laugh. Without meaning to, he uncovered his face, giggling. “There you are,” Moomin smiled, leaning down to nestle a kiss against Snufkin’s belly. “I knew my Snufkin was hiding in there somewhere.”

“You think about me?” Snufkin squirmed, letting his knees rest in his friend’s palms. Moomin nodded, shy.

“A lot more that I suppose I ought to.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, it can’t be worse than me.”

“It might be.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that there’s nothing embarrassing about it?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“You’re Snufkin.” Moomin smiled, eyes gentle and warm. “You’re just… Good. And you deserve a gentle love.”

Snufkin hadn’t even realized he’d let his legs fall open again until Moomin’s snout settled between them. With a slow movement, he ran his tongue against Snufkin as if grooming him. Even for all his mating inadequacies, Snufkin couldn’t imagine he needed _grooming._ Right? But then he was gasping, instinctively tightening his thighs against Moomin’s face and shaking as Moomin untangled some frantic energy tied tight within him.

“Oh lord,“ he whimpered, restless hands reaching down to hold onto Moomin’s fur.

“Is it okay?” Moomin pulled back, taking a deep breath.

“Yes! Yes, please-“ Paw shooting up to cover his mouth, Snufkin whined as Moomin moved down again, soft fur brushing against everything sensitive, tickling him in a way that felt more like a strain than a nuisance. He felt like a pot about to boil over, a fishing line about to snap.

Scooting his knees up, Moomin let Snufkin cross his ankles behind his shoulders, his gentle paws holding onto Snufkin so that he would stop wriggling. He couldn’t help it, though. Breath stuttering, he gripped Moomin’s snout, holding on as if that would keep him in place. Pulling back again, Moomin rubbed his neck.

“Maybe we should try-“

“Yes.” Whatever Moomin was about to say, he could do it, Snufkin just needed him to keep touching him. Positively blinded by his need, he was perhaps too eager to comply, unable to fully grasp the directions Moomin was giving him.

“Here, just,” pulling Snufkin up, Moomin lay down on his back, tugging Snufkin’s leg across himself.

“Wait- Won’t I hurt you?”

“I’ll tell you if you do.”

Snufkin was about to ask another question, but he quickly forgot what it was as Moomin held onto his hips, bringing him down to his mouth once more. Groaning, Snufkin braced his hands against Moomin’s snout, legs shaking as his friend used the new position to its full advantage.

“I- Oh, lord,” Snufkin gasped, panting at the lovely way Moomin’s tongue moved against him. He hadn’t the presence of mind to be self-conscious now, practically sweating out his desperation as he keened, rolled his hips forward against Moomin’s open mouth. “Ah- Yes! Yes, yes, please, I can’t-“

Moomin grabbed onto his waist, pulling him forward, and then Snufkin was buzzing, whimpering at the way Moomin’s lips felt on his body, his tongue pushing up against him, over him, inside him. Helpless, Snufkin panted, silently whining as the bottom of Moomin’s snout pushed against his stomach, a firm pressure to keep him in place. Collapsing, he caught his hands against the ground, breathless as he went blind with pleasure, Moomintroll thoroughly exhausting him.

Gently, Moomin gripped his waist again, lifting Snufkin up enough to scoot out from beneath him. Purring happily, Snufkin lay down on the ground, only somewhat embarrassed by the soaking wetness between his legs.

“Wow,” Moomin nuzzled the back of his neck gently, as if afraid he could ever be too much. “You’re very… Wow.”

Sighing, Snufkin rolled so that he could be pressed to his friend’s chest. “That was… You are very clever, Moomintroll.”

Moomin laughed, suddenly shy, his tail whipping back and forth. “Hey Snuf?”

“Hmm?” Sleepily, Snufkin opened one eye to look at his amazing friend, only to find himself completely unprepared for was the way Moomin would look with his snout glistening in the warm light, soaked by Snufkin’s… enthusiasm.

“Do you think it’s okay if… Can I just look at you some more?”

“Sure,” Snufkin finally managed to make his voice squeak out, quickly realizing his body wasn’t done with torturing him just yet. Slowly, Moomin traced a finger along Snufkin’s nose, brushing his fluff the wrong way and laughing when Snufkin sneezed, wrinkling his snout up.

He laughed again when Snufkin purred as he pet along his belly, stretching out his legs. Still giggling, Moomin kissed inside Snufkin’s arm, pressing a smile to the skin. It wasn’t until the sound was already coming out of his mouth that Snufkin realized his purr had become a moan. Moomin paused, as if thinking something over, but then kindly continued without comment. Snufkin felt his face flush at so ready a reaction, quickly becoming even more embarrassed when he did it again, gasping when Moomin touched his leg.

“Sorry,” he pushed his hair back from his face, groaning. Moomin didn’t reply, sliding his paws down Snufkin’s sides inquisitively, staring again. “I can’t- Ah!” Gasping, he pushed his hips up into Moomin’s open palm, reflexively seeking out his warmth. “I’m sorry, I-“ teeth chattering, he balled his paws into fists as he tried to stop panting. “I’m sorry. I can’t-“ But Moomin only rubbed his paw against him, drawing it away slowly, pulling another whine from between Snufkin’s teeth. So quick. He was already ready again so soon after finishing. Moomin was kind enough to do… _that_ for him and he was already greedy for more. He told himself it was enough, he was fine, but all he could think about was that log, how good it would feel to get stretched out, how badly he needed something inside him, anything inside him, Moomin inside him-

“Wow, Snuf,” Moomin whispered, touching him between his legs. “You get really ready really quickly.”

“I know! I know. I’m sorry. It’s the thoughts, I can’t stop them, I-”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize. But, by any chance, do any of your thoughts have to do with me getting to… mate… with you… properly?”

“Moomin, I will let you do whatever you want, provided you do it very soon.” Gasping and practically writhing again, Snufkin was sorry for the loss of Moomin’s touch. What he wasn’t sorry for was the incredible warmth he felt when Moomin leaned over him again, kissing his neck.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.” And even if he did, it was nothing Snufkin minded at the moment.

“I just worry that-” Moomin whined too, gasping as Snufkin’s hips pressed against him. “Are you sure you want this? It’s not just the heat?”

“Moomin, if I wanted this any more, I might actually catch on fire.”

Moomin braced his arms beside Snufkin’s face, pressing his hips against Snufkin’s leg, moaning as he did so. The sound was glorious, beautiful, and more erotic than he was prepared for. “Okay. Alright. Just give me a moment-“

“Are you okay too or-“ Snufkin stopped talking as Moomin rocked against him again, looking down and cursing his inattentive nature. How long had _that_ been happening? Moomin rutted against him again, something definitively hard pressing into Snufkin’s thigh. Last time he checked, Moomin was soft all over. Of course, lots of things seemed to have escaped his notice recently. “Oh my.”

Pressing his snout to Snufkin’s neck, Moomin palmed himself over the small nub, rubbing at it. Was that… Did Moomins… Not wishing to embarrass himself with any more questions he didn’t already know the answer to, Snufkin settled for one he felt fairly certain of.

“Let me help?”

Taking a breath, Moomin nodded. “If you really want to help, you can lean back against the tree.”

“Here?” Snufkin smiled stupidly, tail flipping about as Moomin hoisted him up by the waist, depositing him in his soft lap. He was so strong.

“Yes, just like that. Just-“ Moomin bucked up against Snufkin, pressing his whatever-it-was between his legs. Gasping, Snufkin arched up, his chest pressing towards Moomin.

“Oh! That’s good- Do that again!”

Complying, Moomin held him tightly, beginning to rub himself against the slick warmth of Snufkin’s thigh, moaning into his shoulder.

“I- Ah- That should be good.” Moomin bucked again, gasping.

“What, you’re not finished yet, are you?” There was panic in Snufkin’s voice despite his best efforts to hide it.

“No, started.” Leaning back, Moomin lightly touched their new arrival.

It was… surprising. Snufkin’s first thought was to wonder how the hell Moomin hid such a thing. His second thought was to wonder how it would feel inside him.

“Is this- Is this okay?” Shy again, Moomin drew his shoulders up.

“Definitely okay. I- Do you want me on the ground again? Or do you-“ Any longer and he would go frantic. It wasn’t fair, to tease him like this. What other secrets had Moomin been hiding?

“I think actually, if you wanted to just-“ gently taking control again, Moomin lifted Snufkin by the waist, making him utter putty in his hands. “Let me know if anything hurts you.”

“Okay,” Snufkin wrapped his arms around Moomin’s neck, nuzzling into the fur happily.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? Because-“

“Moomin, please!”

“Alright! Alright. Sheesh.” Slowly, much too slowly, Moomin pressed Snufkin down at the hips. His lips parted in a silent gasp, body trembling as Moomin returned the gesture, pressing his snout against Snufkin’s shoulder. “Oh- Oh Snuf-“

Snufkin only nodded, panting as Moomin took his time lowering him. Moaning, the moomintroll bucked upwards, his breath turning into a hiss.

“Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t-“

“Do that again,” Snufkin panted, clinging to Moomin’s frame.

Carefully, Moomin did, both of them groaning as he pushed further inside. “Do you think- Could I-“

“Please, Moomin, please,” Snufkin tightened his paws in his fur. “I need you. I need you so badly right now. I need you, I need-“ His words cut off as Moomin gave him _exactly_ what he needed, sliding himself the rest of the way inside.

“Snuf, I- Oh, you’re so lovely.” Still holding onto him, Moomin began to buck in slow, shallow strokes. Snufkin only whined in reply, all his energy focused on not combusting. “Oh my! You’re- You’re-“ Still gasping for words, Moomin nuzzled into his friend’s shoulder. “Oh, you’re just wonderful-“

Feeling quite the same, Snufkin whimpered as Moomin’s strokes deepened, filling him up and stretching him out, making him feel more content and safe than he had in a long time. Clinging to his shoulders, Snufkin endeavored to get as close as he could, to touch as much of Moomin as possible. Luckily, it was easy for him to just go limp with bliss, let Moomin lift and drop him as he needed. Closing his eyes, he decided this was better than anything he could have ever imagined, better than anything he deserved, really. Near tears with relief, he didn’t even notice at first that Moomin was moving him back until he felt the soft fur pull away from his face, Moomin’s paws coming up to cup his cheeks. Pressing their snouts together, Moomin continued to buck into him, stoking the fire in his belly.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding emphatically, Snufkin held onto Moomin’s arms, only somewhat minding the fact that Moomin was able to see just how messy and desperate he was.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry? Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Snufkin tightened his grip. “I just feel like I ended up tricking, and got the better half of the deal.”

“Better than this?” Moomin nuzzled his cheek, paws coming down to rest on his hips again. “Impossible.”

“Yes, you’re-“ His voice hiccupped, “you’re very talented.”

“Oh,” Moomin flushed, laughing awkwardly as he kissed Snufkin’s neck. “You make it fun.”

“Yes?”

“I knew you were wonderful, but- You feel so good. You’re-“ Moomin groaned, his grip tightening. “You’re perfect.”

“Perfect?” He wasn’t sure he liked that word. It left little room for change.

“I can’t-“ he broke for a sharp breath “imagine, that anyone else, would be, half, as good, as you.”

“You think I’m good?” Really, all he’d done was sit there and let Moomin do the work.

“Oh, yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But, I’m biased.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you. So badly.”

“How badly?” Arching his back, Snufkin whined as Moomin hit just exactly the right spot.

“So badly.”

“You wanted me?”

“I want you.”

“Want me how?”

“As a friend. As a love. Like this.”

“Even if I’m all gross and sticky?”

Moomin laughed, the sound becoming a gasp as he sped up.

“Especially when you’re gross and sticky. Especially like this. Especially on my lap, in my mouth; especially on me, over me, on my-“ Breaking, Moomin raked his paws down Snufkin’s back, groaning deeply. “Oh- Snufkin-“

Snufkin gasped, finishing hard and fast, stars twinkling in his eyes as Moomin bounced him in quick, jagged movements, his soft tongue pressing to his warm shoulder. Clinging to him, Snufkin wrapped his legs around his waist, held on tight as Moomin dug his paws into his back, finished with a groan.

Sweaty and breathless, Snufkin decided that he’d just hold on as long as he was able, the thunderstorm inside him subsiding into a quiet calm. Wrapping an arm around him, Moomin pivoted them both so that he could lean against the tree without disrupting Snufkin’s daze. Purring happily, he tucked his head beneath Moomin’s snout, exhausted.

Ever loving, Moomin stroked his back, rubbing him gently in soothing circles.

“How do you feel?”

“Better. Much better.” Snufkin paused to take a full inventory of his feelings. “Also happy. Sleepy.”

“No post-heat regrets?”

“No. You?”

“Other than wishing you’d talked to me sooner, no.”

The two friends sat in silence a while longer, enjoying the closeness until Moomin broke the moment with a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Snufkin looked up at him.

“Nothing. Well, it’s just, after all this time, you make a much better damsel in distress than any of the girls.”

Snufkin was ready to be scandalized, but after half a second’s thought, realized Moomin was right.

“I didn’t mean to be.” Still tired and more than a bit embarrassed, he lay his head down again.

“Damsels never do.”

“Besides, if I had known you wanted so bad to rescue me,” twirling a spot of fur with his fingers, Snufkin shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d probably have paid Little My to stab me.”

“That isn’t funny!” Moomin gasped, but Snufkin only laughed. “You have to promise me you won’t put yourself in danger again.”

“You know I can’t promise something like that.”

“Then at least promise to take me with you.”

“I can promise to try. Danger has a way of sneaking up, you know.”

“Don’t say that!” Moomin hugged Snufkin tight as he chuckled, entertained by his gentle friend’s distress.

“You don’t have to worry.” Sitting upright, Snufkin pressed a kiss to the tip of Moomin’s snout. “I promised I’d always come back to you. And I always will.”

Quiet again, Moomin touched the fur on Snufkin’s paws, turning them over in his hands.

“I still don’t see how it’s fair,” he muttered.

“How what’s fair?”

“You were already plenty gorgeous. Why’d you have to go and improve upon it? How am I supposed to stand it?”

Surprised, Snufkin held still, not moving until a giggle worked its way out, quickly becoming a chuckle and then a full laugh, the two friends holding paws, relieved that once again, all was right in their world.

 

 

…

 

 

Night had already fallen by the time Moomin returned home. He’d missed dinner, but that was fine. Little things like eating were no longer important to him as he more floated than walked through the front door.

“Hello, son.” Moominpappa looked up at his from his favorite chair.

“H’llo.” Moomin yawned, making his way to the staircase, tail trailing along behind him.

“I presume Snufkin’s feeling better.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No reason, no reason at all.” Clearing his throat, Pappa went back to reading his book.

“Hello, dear,” Moominmamma opened the door from the kitchen, carrying a tray of coffees. “Lovely day, didn’t you-“ Pausing, she put her snout in the air, sniffing curiously. “Does anyone else smell honeysuckle?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET


	17. In Which Moomin Is Very Nervous

What does one say the day after sleeping with their best friend? If there was a proper protocol, Moomin certainly didn’t know it. Maybe he should bring Snufkin flowers? No, Snufkin would always prefer his flowers wild and in fields by the hundreds. Maybe some food? A cake? Did Snufkin like cake? Moomin pictured himself writing “Thanks for mating with me” on the top in icing. No. That wasn’t good. Was he even supposed to bring anything, or would acknowledging it make it even weirder? What if he acknowledged it and it embarrassed Snufkin so bad he turned around and died? Or what if he didn’t acknowledge it and Snufkin felt so awkward that he left Moominvalley forever? Oh! What would he do? Sitting on the bridge alone, clinging to the memories of the evening they had before Snufkin left, never to return! It was tragedy! It was unthinkable! It was-

“Hi, Moomin.” Humming contentedly, Snufkin stacked a small pile of firewood beside his tent.

“I appreciate you!” Shouting, Moomin balled his paws into fists. Quietly, Snufkin just nodded.

“Alright. I… appreciate you too?”

“Thank you.” Moomin took a deep breath in, exhaling shakily as Snufkin went back to his work.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good. And you?”

“Better that I have in ages.” Whistling now, he wiped the sweat from his brow, smiling. “Finally warm again.”

“That’s good. All that fur finally kicking in?” Moomin laughed uncomfortably.

Staring at the backs of his hand, Snufkin frowned. “No, I think it was a heat thing.”

Oh lord. He’d said it. It was acknowledged.

“Heat. Right.” Casually, Moomin stared at the woods behind him. “So you’re- Everything is-”

“Fit as a fiddle. Feel.” Leaning in, Snufkin pressed his forehead to the front of Moomin’s snout. Oh no. Oh my.

Though he was still warm from his work outside, he wasn’t fever hot anymore, which was good. Closing his eyes, Moomin soaked the moment in, enjoying every bit up until Snufkin leaned back with a smile.

Coughing, Moomin blushed. “You’re right. That’s certainly… good.”

“Very good.” Whistling again, Snufkin took his pot off the charcoal cinders, stringing together a willowy tune. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“I was going to help Mamma finish preparing this season’s jams.”

“Oh, good. Always nice to have a bit of sweetness bottled up for the winter.”

“Yes. Er, Snufkin?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… “ Taking a deep breath, Moomin decided it was best to get it over with. “I feel like we ought to talk about yesterday.”

Stiffening, Snufkin looked at Moomin slowly, concern on his face. “Are you not alright?”

“No!” Moomin waved his paws, batting away the very idea. “No, I am more than alright! I’m splendid. I just… I don’t know.” Ears drooping, he tried to cling to his resolve. “I think we need to talk about it.”

“Do you have anything in particular you need to say?” Still worried, Snufkin tried to mask his discomfort, the flick of his tail giving him away. “And don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”

“Nothing in particular, other than… Well…” Moomin thought of everything he could say, everything he ought to say. “I’m glad you trusted me.” Later. He would tell him later, but not now.

“There isn’t a reason in the world why I wouldn’t.”

“But I know it isn’t easy for you to let yourself need help, and… I wanted to thank you for that.”

Snufkin blushed. “I’m not sure I left myself much of a choice in the matter,” he laughed anxiously.

“But you did. And I don’t want to discount that.”

 

“It’s not as if it was any great burden on me.” Staring at the cinders, Snufkin began to poke them into a pile with a large stick that was sitting nearby. “If anything, I ought to be thanking you. Saving me twice in one day.”

“I’ll always be ready to save you. But I appreciate it, you letting me. And I… had a nice time doing so. After the kidnapping part was over,” Moomin hastily tacked on the end.

“Sure, sure. I had a nice time too. Better than nice, really. Splendid. I had a splendid time.”

“You don’t… regret? Anything?”

“No regrets. Other than terribly inconveniencing you.”

“ _Nothing_ about that was inconvenient.”

“The tavern was.”

“Other than that.”

“Other than that, yes. Well, other than that,” Snufkin finished making his small stack of coal, realized with a panic that he would have to make eye contact soon. “Other than that, I really…” _Don’t say appreciate. Don’t say appreciate._ “cherished. What you did.” _That was worse._

“Oh.” Snufkin didn’t dare look at the expression on Moomin’s face. If he could, he would crawl inside his hat entirely. “Oh, wow, well… Me too, I suppose.”

“Great.” Voice squeaking, Snufkin grabbed onto his tail, which had flopped itself right into the middle of the ash pile. Typical.

“Hey, Snuf?”

“Yes, Moomin?”

“Do you… I don’t suppose that… Was that a one time cherishing?”

 _Lord, I hope not._ Snufkin strangled his tail, trying to keep it from flipping about wildly.

“I don’t see why it would have to be.”

“So, if in the future…”

“The future, yes?”

“If I were to… If you were to…”

“To what?”

“To… cherish. Would that be…”

“That would be okay, I think. As long as you wanted to.”

“I very much would like to.”

It was a good thing he was standing by the cinder pile. That would make the cleaning much easier once he finally combusted.

“I… would very much like to as well.”

“Okay.” Moomin rocked back and forth on his feet as Snufkin continued to stare at the ground. “So, do you want me to leave you alone, or-”

“I can come make jam.”

“Good!” Voice light with carefree happiness, Moomin clapped his paws together once. “Do you need some time, or?”

Practically vibrating with emotion, Snufkin just nodded quietly, thankful that his friend knew him so well. “I’ll come along. But, Moomin-”

Moomintroll stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder, “Yes?”

Heart beating all the way down to his toes, Snufkin swallowed the words he wanted to say. “Save the red bowl for me.”

“I always do.” Picking up the tune Snufkin had been humming earlier, Moomin trotted over the bridge, allowing Snufkin’s knees to finally collapse beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wheezing.* Hello friends and fiends alike.
> 
> So as you may or may not have noticed, I have been on one hell of a marathon of updating every day. Mostly I was able to do that because I had banged out 18,000 words in the course of three days so I had plenty of backlog. Now that I actually have to write again, things may not be as quick. Updates are coming, but they won't be a 24 hour cycle. More like every few days. Not terribly long, but long enough for me to create content. I didn't want to make yall wait between the first 16 chapters for, well, obvious reasons. Now that we're all sitting comfortable, I've got a bit more time.  
> Thanks for your patience! And
> 
> Cheers


	18. In Which Jam Is Made

“Like this?”

“Perfect, Snufkin!” Happily, Moominmamma peered over his shoulder, watching him stir.

“Watch me, Mamma!” Holding the end of a spoon as large as she was, Little My sprinted circles around the bowl’s perimeter, more whisking than stirring the peach jam she was supposed to be working on.

“Very good, My! Sniff, don’t eat that.”

“Why not?” Sniff put down the spoon sitting in the pot on the stove.

“There’s no sugar yet. It won’t taste good.”

“Besides, if you eat everything now, there won’t be much for later.” Stirring the large pot, Moomin rolled his eyes. Laughing to himself, Snufkin looked back down at his own work. If he didn’t stop himself, he’d spend the entire day just staring at Moomintroll.

“It is nearly time for the sugar now; would you like to help me, Sniff?”

“Are you asking because I’m the strongest?” Sniff put his spoon back down.

“I… Of course, dear.”

“Then I’ll help!” Head held high, Sniff marched down to the cellar, proud of his purpose.

“I’ll come too,” Little My jumped off the counter, wiping her paws on her dress.

“I appreciate the help, but are you sure?”

Looking her shoulder, Snufkin could feel her stare burning into him. “Positive.”

“The more the merrier then. We’ll be right back.” Humming a working tune, Mamma left the boys alone to their respective tasks.

The kitchen was quiet. Normally Snufkin didn’t mind quiet. He didn’t even mind this quiet so much, except that it allowed him to think of every single thing he ought not to say.

Suddenly having a brilliant idea, Snufkin held a paw up. “Moomin?”

“Yes?” Turning, Moomintroll fell right into his trap, snout bumping into his paw. “Oh! Sorry, Snufkin.”

“Oh no, it was my mistake,” Snufkin forced his best laugh. “Although- Oh no! I’m _so_ sorry! I got raspberry on you!”

Crossing his eyes, Moomin tried to look at his nose. “Where?”

“Right here,” Snufkin pointed, smiling apologetically as Moomin giggled.

“I’ll go get a towel.”

“Not to worry, I got it.” Holding his juice-stained paws aside, Snufkin leaned in, pressing his mouth to Moomin’s snout. Moomin squeaked, shoulders drawing up as his ears flicked back and forth.

“Did… Did you get it?” He flushed, adorably perfect as Snufkin leaned back to examine the now cleaned fur.

“Almost. Just one second.” Leaning in, he took his chance, nuzzling his nose into the thick white fur, lips pursed into a kiss. “Got it,” leaning back, he licked the bit of raspberry off his bottom lip. Moomin just stared at him, fidgeting quietly before looking over his shoulder at the empty door.

“Are you sure you got all of it?”

“Pretty sure.”

Lifting his paw, Moomin smeared a streak of strawberry over his nose. “Can you check?”

Laughing, Snufkin leaned in again, grooming him with his tongue before pressing another kiss to his snout.

Sighing, Moomin rubbed his snout against his nose, giggling when Snufkin cupped his face. His eyelids fluttered as he drew back, wondering if Moomin could see how pink he was beneath the dark fur.

“Is that okay?”

“Very okay. In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed to you doing it again.” Smiling, Moomin leaned in, bumping their snouts lightly. Giddy with sentiment, Snufkin chuckled happily, standing on tiptoe to kiss the space between Moomin’s eyes.

“Good. Because I quite like doing it.”

Holding Snufkin by the waist, Moomin stroked his snout against his cheek, making Snufkin giggle, teeth pressing to fur as he smiled.

“You’re very soft.”

Flushing an even brighter shade of red, Snufkin instinctively reached for his hat before realizing he wasn’t wearing it. Not able to stand the gentleness in Moomin’s face much longer, he kissed him again as an excuse to close his eyes, heart thump thump thumping its way across his chest. What a good friend.

Three loud raps came on the door, causing them to jump, pulling apart and going back to their respective stations. Peeking her head around the corner before entering, Little My jumped up onto the counter.

“Tails.”

Quicker than he would have thought possible, Snufkin yanked at his tail, untangling it from Moomin’s. When had that happened? Coming back into the kitchen, Moominmamma and Sniff placed several bags of sugar up onto the counter.

“Oh, Moomin! You’ve got some schmutz on your cheek.” Wiping her son’s face with a finger, Moominmamma cleaned her paw off on a towel. “You haven’t been sneaking the jam, have you?”

“Oh course not.” Stirring the pot more quickly than was strictly necessary, Moomin fell to careful examination of the strawberries within. “But they sure do look good.”

“This will be the best batch yet,” Sniff overturned a cup of sugar into the pan.

“You say that about every batch,” Little My quipped, still side-eyeing Snufkin, who adamantly refused to make eye contact.

“And they just keep getting better! Isn’t that right, Moominmamma?”

“I certainly hope so, “ continuing her song, Moominmamma hummed as she measured out the next cup of sugar. “It’s always nice to have something to look forward to.”


	19. In Which Snufkin Pines

Snufkin really did like Moomintroll a lot. More than he should, really, and that put him in an uncomfortable predicament.

Things had happened so quickly, it had left him reeling. Although, honestly, he was a bit relieved to be released from the burden of wooing. It was not one of his strong suits, and if he had tried to say things romantic enough to get Moomin to notice him, there was no way he wouldn’t have ruined it. Not that running into the mountains only to discover his own body had declared mutiny upon him was a stellar plan, but at least this way he was excused from collectedness. And poor Moomin had taken pity on him, had stroked his hair and kissed him and given him everything he wanted. Chivalrous and gentle Moomin. Kind and loving Moomin. Always loving.

Moomin loved lots of things. He loved his home and his family. He loved his friends and stories and adventures. He loved Snufkin’s songs (or at least he was polite enough to say that he did). He was even the most likely to tolerate unpleasant visitors (although, Snufkin did consider almost any visitor unpleasant). Moomin loved everything he encountered, heart spilling out and over until Moominvalley was a lake of kindness. It was a blessing, to be loved by Moomin. He filled his heart with people and things and places, but, Snufkin thought sullenly, that left very little room for him. At least in the way that he wished it.

Snufkin’s heart wasn’t so jam-packed. He loved nature and freedom and music. He loved his cobbled together family. And mostly, his aching chest reminded him, he loved Moomintroll.

That was perhaps the only thing not washed away in the relief that night. Yes, he finally felt at peace in his body again. Yes, he finally could sleep once more. And yes, he no longer felt the need to flee from every person he saw, but… The ache wasn’t gone, just transformed. He had been standing in floodwaters so long he hadn’t noticed the twitch in his heart, the underpinning beneath the longing. And now that the desperation was gone, all he was left with was the whispering want. Cupping his cheeks in his hands, he stared at the campfire.

It wasn’t a bad thing it had happened, but… How was he supposed to know how Moomin felt? He certainly couldn’t just _ask_ him. As ill-versed as Snufkin was in these things, he knew enough to know one cannot simply ask another “Do you love me?” But still, he clung to the question, used it to keep his head above water as he nearly drowned in the ache inside him.

_Do you love me?_

It wasn’t a question; it was a demand, an inquisition. There was only one good answer, only one scenario in which Moomin threw his arms into the air and shouted, “Yes! I love you! I love you more than I miss you and I miss you more than you can fathom! Yes, I love you! Yes, yes, yes!”

_Do you love me?_

Loving someone was a cage, all fences and metal bars and a string tied round your tail to reel you back in, should you stray too far. But Moomin’s love was also running into the woods, never taking up too much space, and falling asleep beneath open stars. If he could go that far, surely Snufkin could meet him halfway? What was halfway? Was love meant to be done halfway? Staring at his fire, he thought about the way Moomin’s snout felt against his lips, the way he giggled and sighed and held him. The way he held him. _The way he held him_. Snufkin closed his eyes.

_Do you love me?_

“Yes,” he wanted to say, wanted to toss everything else he cared about to the wind so that there would be room enough in his heart to fit the boundless ache of his love, room enough to fit the expanse of everything that was Moomintroll. _Yes! Yes, I love you like a compass loves north and baby birds love to fall.. Like fire loves smoke and smoke loves height and height loves depth. I love you like all of that, and I love you the best that I can, so I’m sorry if it isn’t enough._

“What are you thinking about?” Moomin nudged him with his shoulder, leaning into his side.

“Nothing.” Snufkin stoked the fire, watching the embers flicker against the night, resting his cheek on the top of Moomin’s head.

 


	20. In Which Moomin Still Needs Help

Moomin found Too-Ticky exactly where he thought she would be. Waving cheerfully, she invited him inside, where Mymble had just taken a kettle off the stove.

“I sincerely hope Little My hasn’t been overstaying her welcome.” Putting a paw to her cheek, Mymble furrowed her brow. “I know she can get a bit difficult at times.”

“She keeps the house interesting,” Moomin smiled, tried not to let the thought put off his appetite.

“Oh, so she has been trouble, hasn’t she?” She sighed. “If she’s ever too much, you just tell her she is no longer welcome! Send her packing back to my house, and I’ll straighten her out!” The softness in her voice did little to add to the credibility of her words.

“No, no! Everything is fine. Besides, I doubt anyone could force Little My to do anything.”

“That’s true.” Sighing, Mymble looked out the window tiredly. “I’m afraid she’s got our mother’s stubbornness.”

“It isn’t a bad thing,” Moomin lied.

“It can be, when mixed with her mischief. I keep waiting for her to settle down, but,” Mymble shook her head. “I’m beginning to doubt that will ever happen.”

 _Beginning?_ Moomin thought.

“Besides,” turning back to him, Mymble smiled, wiping her paws on her apron, “perhaps we need someone with a good dose of pluck. Keeps all things balanced.”

“The oven, dear.” Too-Ticky pulled out a seat at the table, calmly taking a drink from the teacup prepared for her.

Mymble gasped, “The cookies!” sprinting off to the kitchen again. Chuckling, Too-Ticky fit her chin into her paw.

“Bit of pluck indeed. She has pluck enough for the both of us.”

“I need help again.” Straight to the point, Moomin fidgeted with his fingers, ears folded back.

“What seems to be the trouble?” Smiling kindly, Too-Ticky leaned in to better listen.

“Well, it’s just… If it’s like you said and the… bed’s gotten bigger?” Moomin hesitated. “I think my bed might have just gotten big enough to need its own house.”

“Ah! I see, Moomintroll.” Too-Ticky chuckled. “You’ve fallen into proper love, haven’t you?”

“No! Well, yes. But- But it’s not like before! And now…” Trailing off, he stared into his teacup, not quite sure what he meant to say. “And now I don’t know what to do.”

“What makes you think you need to do anything at all?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I just do.”

“Have you tried to talk to Snufkin? Maybe tell him how you feel?”

“I couldn’t possibly do that,” Moomin shook his head. “Not yet. Not until everything is ready.”

“Ready?” Too-Ticky arched her eyebrows.

“Or at least not until I’m ready. And Snufkin’s ready. And preferably when there’s not so much nor so little time left in the year, depending on how it goes? When it’s safe to do so. Snufkin’s busy right now. He doesn’t have time for… all that. He doesn’t need me giving him anything else to worry about.”

“I see,” Too-Ticky sipped her tea, nodding. “Then it was very lucky for you that you happened to fall in love under perfect circumstances with perfect timing and perfect surroundings.”

“Oh, no,” Moomin groaned. “It couldn’t have been worse! I picked the least convenient time to do all this.”

“So, if you could fall in love with imperfect timing… why can’t he?”

“Well, because…” Moomin frowned, looking at his paws. “I suppose…”

“I’d wager he’s just as frightened as you are. He’s a clever fellow; all mymbles are. Probably would feel a lot better if you just got it out into the open. At the very least he’ll know why you’ve been acting so twitchy.”

“But what if I scare him?”

“There are worse things to be than scared.”

“The bottoms are a bit browned, I hope you don’t mind.” Carrying a tray of cookies out, Mymble set them onto the table, taking off her oven mitts. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

Moomin shot Too-Ticky a look, pleading with her not to say anything. Tapping a finger aside her nose, she nodded, smiling.

“Just catching up on the latest news.”

“Mamma’s just canned this season’s jams. You should both come over soon and try them.” Taking a cookie, Moomin bit into it, quickly swallowing some of the cooled tea to ease the burn on his tongue.

“Oh! How lovely. I’ll have to see if she can spare a jar, and I’ll make some tarts. What do you think, dear?” Coming up behind Too-Ticky, Mymble wrapped her arms around her shoulders, resting her chin atop her head.

“I think that sounds splendid.” Taking a cookie as well, Too-Ticky covered Mymble’s paws with one of her own, patting her arm. Tilting her head back, she smiled up at Mymble, who leaned in for an happy kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to respond to comments, I'm *dabs* sad. But I'll get through them eventually! Until then, please know how much I appreciate and love yall. Deuces. And
> 
> Cheers


	21. In Which Snufkin Isn't A Bother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter? Adds absolutely nothing to the plot.

“Moomin!”

Waking up, Moomin blinked into the darkness. He could have sworn he had heard someone call his name.

“Moomin!” There it was again. Moomin squinted, jumping as Snufkin’s face appeared above his windowsill.

“Oh! Snufkin, it’s you.” Sighing, Moomin rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“It’s cold outside.” Swinging a leg over the sill, Snufkin more fell than climbed into the room. “Can I sleep in here?”

“Cold?” It wasn’t nearly late enough in the season for it to be cold yet, as evidenced by his open window.

“Freezing! Snow must be coming early this year.” Kicking off his boots, Snufkin pushed them aside, crawling under the covers.

“Snow? Wh- Are you sick?”

“It’s positively frigid in here too! How do you stand it?” Pulling the blankets over his head, Snufkin curled himself into a small ball tucked against Moomin’s side.

“Wait. Are you…“ Sighing heavily, Moomin pulled back the covers, pressing a paw to Snufkin’s forehead.

 

It wasn’t until he heard the purring that Snufkin realized he had instinctively begun to rub his face into Moomin’s palm. His eyes opened wide.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” Chuckling, Moomin stretched, yawning again.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Hiding his face in his paws, Snufkin hoped Moomin wouldn’t care about what an embarrassing blunder he had just made.

“It’s alright,” Moomin stroked back Snufkin’s hair.

“And I’ve woken you up!” Sitting up, Snufkin began to slink away. “I’m so sorry. I’ll go, let you get your rest-“

“Come back here,” still smiling, Moomin nuzzled the side of Snufkin’s face. “There will be plenty of time for sleeping tomorrow.”

“I know, but- This isn’t your problem. I’ll just go and-“ And what? Take care of it himself? Because that had been working so well?

“Oh.” Moomin’s grip loosened a little. “If you don’t want my help-“

“No, no! Of course I _want_ your help.” Not want his help? _His_? Moomin’s? Not want _Moomin’s_ help? Impossible. “But I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re never a bother, Snuf.” Moomin yawned again, pressing his snout to Snufkin’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute to get in the mood.”

What a strange concept, Snufkin thought. Why, he’d been thinking of nothing but all day, imagining every possible way Moomin could roughly flip him onto his back, bend him over whatever was handy, come up behind him and mount him, and- Oh. Maybe that should have been a clue.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you. We can do this a different time.”

“Snufkin, you smell like you’re about to burst.”

“What?”

“How long have you- Nevermind. Why don’t you help me get you out of this?”

Not having bothered to redress entirely, Snufkin had left his scarf and hat behind, coming over in only his tunic and pants. Nodding quietly, appreciative of Moomin’s generosity, he undid the buttons at his neck before crossing his arms over himself, lifting his coat at the hem. Ever kind, Moomin ran his paws down his sides, making Snufkin shiver with the tickle. Lord, he was so soft. So soft and round and strong and thick and-

Moomin chuckled as Snufkin whined. “Quiet! Quiet,” he whispered, shushing him. “Don’t wake anybody else.”

Guiltily, Snufkin nodded, biting down on his lip as Moomin untied the draw at his pants, loosening but not removing them. Sliding his hands up his back, he lay him back down onto the pillow. Snufkin closed his eyes, took a moment to enjoy the smell of clean cotton. But what if-

“Oh-“ he tried to sit up. “I’ll make your bed smell weird, won’t I?”

“I hope you do.” Leaning over him, Moomin kissed his forehead and nose. “It might bring me some sweet dreams.”

“I’m sorry. Really. I don’t mean to be a bother.” Nervous all over again, Snufkin looked around the dark room. His nature and mind were always warring with one another, and as bad as he felt, he sincerely hoped Moomin would forgive him this intrusion.

“Never a bother. Only a pleasant surprise.” Pressing his snout gently, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s eyelids. “Now, I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, of course. Anything. What is it?”

“I need you to stop apologizing, and tell me when something doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s possible,” Somewhat reassured, Snufkin let himself be arranged on the pillows.

“The apologizing or the stopping?”

“Both. I don’t think you could make it feel bad if you tried.”

Moomin laughed, quietly. “Okay, but just in case. You’ll tell me?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to accidently hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.” Smiling, relieved, Snufkin pet Moomin’s face before pulling him down, nuzzling him again. Humming contentedly, Moomin kissed first his snout then his chest, craning Snufkin’s neck with the movement. Sighing, Snufkin squirmed, more needy than he was willing to admit but determined to be patient for the sake of Moomintroll. He was lucky to have a friend so willing and kind; the last thing he needed to do was scare him off with how demanding he was. So instead he lay back, tried to relax as Moomin pressed his warm snout to his neck, their bodies interlocking as perfectly as clasped hands. Groaning, he buried in nose in the fur along Moomin’s shoulder, breathing in deeply.

The soft brush of blanket against his skin kept jarring him back to the realization that he was in Moomin’s bed. It seemed an awfully intimate thing, to be in another’s bed like this, especially with the sheets still warm with Moomin’s interrupted sleep. Of course, he had been in Moomin’s room countless times; he’d slept in this very bed, between these very sheets. The room was nothing new and there was no reason why he wouldn’t be invited in, and yet the knowledge that it was Moomin’s room made him feel almost giddy with excitement. Squinting his eyes closed, Snufkin tried to reground himself. The fact that this was Moomin’s bed meant nothing. He was reading signs that weren’t there, jumping cliffs of conclusions in his desperate attempt to have Moomin love him back.

Speaking of Moomin, he was taking a great deal of time nuzzling Snufkin’s cheeks, careful and gentle as he kissed his face. Flushed, Snufkin whined, needing more. Luckily, he had a new advantage in knowing how the troll anatomy actually worked, allowing him to be more of a help this time. Carding his fingers through Moomin’s thick fur, he let his hand wander down until he felt Moomin gasp, pushing down against his palm.

“Here; why don’t you lay down, and that way I can…” Snufkin paused, unsure what exactly it was he was planning to do, “wing it more effectively.”

Moomin laughed, the sound becoming a groan in the back of his throat. “Okay, if that’s what you want.“

Sitting up quickly, Snufkin easily took over, working his leg between Moomin’s to give him something to push against as he kissed him. Slowly, Snufkin trailed kisses along the side of his face; beside his ears, along his snout. He kissed his neck, his chest, his paws, gasping his own frustration as he used Moomin’s leg for friction, rubbing himself against it.

“Okay, I think that’s-“ Covering his mouth, Moomin moaned as he held tightly to the sheets, Snufkin’s fingers having finally found what he was searching for. Dreadfully curious, he stroked it between two of his fingers. Evidently feeling shy today, only the tip was coming out. _Well that won’t do,_ thought Snufkin, his frustration already pooling into desperation. Looking up at Moomin’s flustered face, be couldn’t help but blush back. How lucky he was, to have such a phenomenal moomintroll. The least he could do was show his appreciation. Careful, mindful of his teeth, Snufkin leaned down, easily fitting the little nub into his mouth. Covering his gasp again, Moomin grasped at the sheets, whining as his hips bucked up towards Snufkin’s mouth. Slowly, he drew back, trying to remember how Moomin had done it. There had been a thing with his tongue, where he flicked it and- Yep. That was it. He could tell by the way Moomin grabbed onto his head, groaning as the nub slid down, became a shaft poking the back of his mouth. Coughing, Snufkin pulled back, trying to muffle the sound. Not waiting for Moomin to interrupt him, he tried out that other tongue thing, pressing it flat to the base, looking up for a reaction. Moomin shuddered, all his limbs tense as he shook, breathing out slowly.

“Snuf- Snufkin-“ He groaned as Snufkin put him back into his cheek. Well, what he could fit of him, anyway. The taste was curious, like something sweet and aged, the thin sheen coating him quite different from his usual fluff. Snufkin bobbed his head down, closing his eyes. The firm texture matched nicely with his tongue, a good landing pad for him to trace shapes along, figure out the exact contour with his lips. He could feel his own want growing as he touched Moomin with his paw, enjoying the ease with which his fingers traced over the slick surface. It was too bad he couldn’t fit the whole thing in his mouth, but Moomin didn’t seem to mind, desperately trying to keep his voice quiet. Deciding he rather liked seeing his friend like this, Snufkin continued, reverently placing kisses along the length, slipping his lips over the tip again. If it wasn’t for the veritable puddle he was sitting in, he could do this forever. Pulling back, he swirled his tongue across the tip.

“Okay, okay-“ Sitting up, Moomin grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him off.

“I wasn’t finished yet.” Genuinely indignant, Snufkin wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his paw.

“If you don’t stop, you will be miserable, I promise you.”

“Are you threatening me, Moomintroll?” Snufkin leaned in, purring at the commanding tone in Moomin’s voice. Thoughts pricked at the back of his mind, whispering for him to imagine the situation reversed, Moomin using that voice to tell Snufkin he’d better do a good job, pushing his head down and-

“What? No- No, I just. You’re too talented for you own good, and while I would love to explore those skills more, I must insist we do so _later_. When you’re not so…” he tilted his head back and forth, “needing.”

“Alright, fine.” Snufkin shrugged, distracted by the way Moomin held him so tightly. Lord, he wanted to just wrap himself around the moomintroll, let him plow him straight through the mattress, into the floor, and- “You know what? Maybe you’re right.”

“Okay. Good. “ Pausing for just a moment Moomin collected his thoughts. “Now. I suppose we ought to… If you’re okay, that is-“

He was interrupted by Snufkin’s kiss. Kneeling, Snufkin cupped his face in his hands, pressing their snouts together firmly. Grabbing a hold on him, Moomin arched him forward, soft chest pressed to chest, Snufkin whimpering again with desire.

“Alright, yes, I know.” Ever patient, Moomin stroked the dark fur on Snufkin’s arms with a laugh, nuzzling his cheek before running his fingers over the patch of fur on his belly, slowly working his pants down over his hips. Snufkin shivered in the cold night air, leaning in and gasping against Moomin’s shoulder as he touched him.

“Oh, geez.” Surprised, Moomin rubbed his palm between Snufkin’s legs. “You could have told me it was so bad. I would have hurried up.”  
“I didn’t- want to rush you.” Snufkin gasped between the words, burrowing into the fur along his shoulder.

“Seriously, Snuf.” Sighing, Moomin began to toy at him with his fingers, causing Snufkin’s legs to shake. “You’re so excited, we’re lucky you didn’t flood the house.”

“I-“ Snufkin tried to defend himself, but there was nothing he could say, not with the way Moomin was touching him. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No apologizing. Remember?” Laying him down again, Moomin kissed his forehead. “I don’t suppose it’s possible for you to get any more ready than you are?”

“Please.” Circling his arms behind Moomin’s neck, Snufkin pushed his hips upward, barely breathing as he felt Moomin line himself up.

“Alright. You’re okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

Desperation having reached a fever pitch, Snufkin nodded furiously, just about ready to boil over when Moomin finally, _finally,_ pushed inside him.

Groaning, Moomin pinched his face up, breath hissing as he entered him.

“Wow. You’re still so… So…”

So what? Loud? Annoying? Inconvenient? Snufkin was about to apologize when Moomin spoke up again.

“You’re so good. I mean-“ gasping, he bucked, arms shaking as he braced himself over his friend. “You feel good. You’re just generally good too, but-“ Moaning quietly, he sheathed himself inside, beginning to thrust in slow strokes. “You feel so good.”

Breathless, Snufkin lay on the pillow, speechless despite his open mouth. “Uh- Thank you.”

“You’re the one giving _me_ a gift. Thank _you_. You-“ Moaning again, Moomin pressed his mouth to Snufkin’s shoulder, stifling the sound. Gasping, he crossed his arms behind Moomin’s shoulders again, hoping to hold him in place. “Oh wow.”

Sighing in relief, Snufkin pushed down onto Moomin, groaning at the pleasant stretch. “Ah- Yes- That’s-“ He hissed as Moomin thrust in slowly, rebuilding the delicious pressure. “Moomin-“

“Yes?”

“I just like to say your name.”

“Please continue.”

“Ah- Moomin- I-“ Snufkin whimpered, knees so high he was practically folded in half. “M-Moomin…”

Moomin. His Moomin. In Moomin’s bed. Mating him. Or, no- Not even mating. He was well past the point of simple mating, having tread too far into tender caresses and sweet nothing to pretend this was anything but adoration.

Nuzzling into his shoulder, Moomin groaned, breathing in slowly. “Oh, you smell so good.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what it is about it, but- Oh, you drive me crazy.”

“Good crazy?”

“Can’t stop crazy.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Moomin kissed the side of his face, moaning. “I like it, knowing you want me.”

“I do want you.”

“Is there anything else I could-”

“No. Just keep going. I-“ Snufkin moaned, the sound becoming a whimpering purr. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Inside me.” He gripped Moomin’s fur tightly.

“I like it too.”

“Good,” Snufkin purred, content as Moomin slowly kept sliding in and out, filling him again and again with his lovely, warm presence. “Oh!” He arched his back, gasping. “There! Right there!”

“Here?”

“Yes!”

“Faster or slower?”

“Faster!”

Obliging, Moomin bucked into him, his breath hot against the side of Snufkin’s face as he moaned.

“Perfect! Right there! Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t.” True to his word, Moomin kept pace, not slowing even when every muscle in Snufkin’s body tensed and seized, flooding him with that same lovely pleasure as before. Gasping, he wrapped his legs around Moomin as best he could, frozen in his glowing rapture. To his surprise, Moomin gasped too.

“Whatever you just did, please do it again.”

“I- That’s up to you.” Snufkin let himself go limp, falling back against the mattress, glad to see that Moomin didn’t move from his spot, still pressed against his body.

“I’m going to- I need- Can I-“

“Yes. Please.” Not bothering to clarify what Moomin was asking for, Snufkin sighed in happy bliss, riding out aftershocks with each stroke.

Carefully, Moomin slowed down, making the thrusts long and deep, shuddering as he did so. Opening his eyes slowly, Snufkin found Moomin looking down at him, a far-away expression on his face.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine. I just-“ Moomin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to fully appreciate a moan, “you’re so magnificent. And you picked me.”

Snufkin flushed bright pink, breath hiccupping. Again, Moomin got him with a particularly lovely stroke, deep and quick, and he whimpered, feeling that need build again.

“I picked you?” He panted, disbelieving. “You picked me.”

“Of course. Anyone with half a mind would.” Sighing, he kissed Snufkin’s throat, his chest. “But you picked me.”

“You picked me back, and that’s your own fault.” If this was some sort of blame game, now was not the time for it.

“A world of creatures, and you came through my window,” Moomin laughed, kissing him again with a moan.

“Should I not?”

“No! Please do. Especially like this,” Chuckling, Moomin nuzzled his cheek.

“Like how?” He knew exactly what Moomin meant; he just wanted to hear him say it.

Moomin’s face flushed as he pushed himself up, tracing his paws down Snufkin’s chest, over his tummy, finally holding onto his hips. “Like this.”

Snufkin gasped, suddenly busy with losing his mind at the way Moomin felt in this new position. Evidently agreeing, Moomin pulled his hips up into his open lap, rocking deep inside him in quick strokes as he groaned, eyes pinching. Again, his insides felt like a balloon about to pop, all his racing energy focused on this one point, this one fact-

“M-Moomin!” Grabbing onto his wrists, Snufkin held tight. “Don’t let go! Don’t stop! I- Moomin!” The _n_ became a sharp pulse on the tip of his tongue, drawn out between his teeth. Arching his back up, he pressed down into Moomin’s paws, legs splayed so wide he might as well have two Moomintrolls. _Two Moomintrolls…_ his heat pondered a moment before erupting into another delicious bout of pleasure.

“Like that! Yes! I-” Moomin gasped, digging his fingers into his waist. Already helpless and spent, Snufkin could do nothing purr as Moomin held his hips aloft, bucking into him until he finished, warm and lovely.

Exhausted, Moomin fell onto the bed beside him, groaning. Still purring, Snufkin snuggled into his side, sweaty and happy and so very _very_ satisfied. After a few minutes of listlessness, Moomin lifted a paw to rub Snufkin’s arm, curling his body to spoon him.

“Are you- Was that… enough?”

“Any more and you’d have to collect me in a bucket.” Voice muffled by the pillow, Snufkin made it his mission to fall asleep as quickly as possible. He doubted he had ever been so tired in his life.

Laughing quietly, Moomin pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, pulling the blankets back up to cover him. “Still cold?”

“If I say yes, will you hold me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Positively frozen.”

Chuckling, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s sweaty forehead, sighing happily.

 

 

…

 

 

“Pappa, have you seen Moomin?”

“He’d doing laundry out back.”

“Oh,” Moominmamma looked out the window. “So early in the morning?”

“I figured it was about time I forced him to join decent society.” Moominpappa turned the page of his book.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, my Dear.” Clenching his pipe between his teeth, Moominpappa lifted his book to cover his face. “Suffice it to say things should sail a bit smoother from here on out.”


	22. In Which Little My Is A Big Sister

Laying on his back, Moomin pointed up to a cloud in the sky.

“That one looks like a flower!”

“No it doesn’t,” Little My squinted. “It looks like an explosion.”

“All clouds look like explosions.”

“Well that one particularly does.”

Ignoring her, Moomin pointed to another cloud. “That one looks like a ship.”

“Or a sandwich half.”

“A hunk of cheese, maybe?”

“If you break Snufkin’s heart, I’ll bite you every day for the rest of your life.”

“What?” Sitting up, Moomin stared at her, more than a bit alarmed.

“I said,” continuing on, Little My stared at the sky, “if you break Snufkin’s heart, I will bite you every day for the rest of your life. Eating breakfast? Bite. Trying to sleep? Bite.”

“I’m not going to break Snufkin’s heart!” Flabbergasted, Moomin tried to collect himself. “Why would I do that?”

“Don’t think that just because I know you, I’m going to let you trample all over my brother.”

“Trample?” Moomin felt his face go pale. “I’m not- I wouldn’t!”

“Darn right you won’t” Laying down again, she stared at the sky. “As irritating as he is, he deserves to be happy.”

“I agree! Do you- Has he said anything to you about being unhappy?”

“No. Snufkin doesn’t talk about stuff like that; you know that.” Quiet again, she stared at a cloud passing by. “That one looks like a mermaid.”

“What makes you think he’s unhappy?”

“He isn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet?”

“Which is why I have to step in and threaten you. He’s a proper nightmare when he’s sad; always moping and making the birds sing sad songs. It’s unbelievable.”

“Why would I make Snufkin unhappy?”

“Because you’re the one who got him acting crazy in the first place. Crazier than normal, I mean.”

“Crazy?”

“If you weren’t so dense, you would see it too. The only reason he hasn’t admitted anything is that he’s as thick as you.”

“Admitted what?”

“Admitted you make him happy.”

“He already knows that. I already know that.”

“No, you make him _happy_. Come back to the same place every year happy. Go indoors and socialize with people happy. Snufkin doesn’t like stuff like that, but he does like you. Or have you really not noticed?”

“You’re looking for things that aren’t there.” Putting his paws on his knees, Moomin stared out at the grass along the hill.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Moomin’s fur bristled.

“Are you really going to lie and tell me you’re not in love with him?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well?”

Silently, Moomin watched the wind thread through the tall weeds. “If Snufkin loved me, he would say something.”

“Would he?”

Thinking about it, Moomin hesitated. No, he refused to get his hopes up. What he had was enough. It was enough that Snufkin was his best friend, enough that he maybe even liked him. It would be selfish to want anything more. He knew that he loved Snufkin, that much was a given. But he was happy to give his love without waiting for anything in return. Snufkin wasn’t like that; he didn’t want to be tied down.

“What makes you think _I’d_ break _his_ heart?”

Little My grunted. “I figure between the two of you, I have a fifty percent chance of guessing right. Besides, it’s my sworn duty as older sister to protect him.“

“I would never hurt him.”

“Not on purpose, sure. But things happen. Or rather,” she sat up, pointing at him, “they better not happen.”

If he ever got the chance to love Snufkin properly, there was nothing in the entire world that could stop him. And Snufkin deserved a proper love; a love that let him wander and grow and change and live, and didn’t try to trap him down in one spot. The weeds swayed in the breeze.

“I promise.”

Sitting up, Little My spat into her palm, extending her paw. Internally rolling his eyes, Moomin reciprocated the gesture, feeling very much like he needed a full bath now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little My said "Himbo Rights"


	23. In Which Little My is An Older Sister

“If you break Moomin’s heart, I will steal all of your teeth.”

Tilting his hat up, Snufkin silently regarded his older sister for a moment before re-covering his face. “And hello to you too, Little My.”

“I mean it.”

“What makes you think I’d even be able to do a thing like that?” Sure, he had the power to make Moomin sad; he did that every year when he left. But break his heart? He couldn’t.

“You better not.”

“I won’t.” Silently, Snufkin tried to fall back asleep, only to find himself wide-awake, staring at the inside of his hat. Maybe if he didn’t get up, she would just go away on her own accord. Seconds ticked by, excruciatingly grating until he had no choice but to sit up and face her. “What do you mean, ‘break his heart?’”

“I mean,” fists on her hips, Little My tapped her foot, irritated, “that I’ve lived with the Moomins a whole lot longer than I lived with you, so if you think that just because I’m blood-related to you means I’m going to choose your side, you’re wrong. I’m not going to risk loosing out on pancakes just because you’re too embarrassed to admit when you like something. Or someone.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Snufkin placed a palm on his tail to keep it from flipping about.

“I know that you’re in love with Moomin.”

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Moomin is a good person. And he’s very trusting. If you hurt him, I will-”

“Take my teeth, I know. But why would I hurt Moomintroll?”

“Let’s face it,” crossing her arms, Little My cocked her hip to the side, “you’re not exactly about to win any ‘boyfriend of the year’ awards.”

Snufkin flushed. “We’re not- I didn’t- Did Moomin say something to you?”

“He doesn’t have to!” Throwing her paws in the air, Little My groaned. “All he does is stand on the veranda and sigh! And then he lies in his bed and sighs! The other day he told me the wallpaper was the loveliest color he had ever seen in his life! He’s gone proper mad!”

“I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”

“There’s only one thing that gets people as crazy as all that!”

 _Oh no,_ Snufkin thought. _It can’t be… It wasn’t…_

But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The touching. The smiling. The gentle kisses and shared whispers.

Moomin didn’t just like him. It was obvious now.

Moomin… was also in heat.

“If you don’t tell him you’re also in love, he’s going to drive me out of the house with all his yammering!” Wait. Love? Snufkin snapped back to the present.

“Also?”

Exasperated, Little My dragged her paws down her face. “Please don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Moomin isn’t in love with me.” Snufkin shook his head. Moomin was many things; polite, kind, adorable. In love with him was not one of those things. But if he was in love, that must mean he loved someone else, and if he was in love with someone else, that meant he didn’t love Snufkin… Again, his heart plummeted. Oh. Okay. Whoever they were, he hoped they would treat Moomin better than he could.

“You’re an absolute dolt; that’s what you are! I had high hopes for you, but you got your dad’s looks and his brains to boot!” Flicking Snufkin on the forehead, Little My sighed. “Yes, he’s in love with you! And if you weren’t so busy feeling sorry for yourself, you might wake up long enough to notice!”

“If Moomin was in love with me, I would know.” Snufkin rubbed the newly sore spot on his forehead.

“How? How would you know?”

“Because, he would… I would… He would tell me.”

“Tell you? Tell you how? By pining after you for months on end? Staring at you like your dumb face is the best thing he’s ever seen? Actually sit through your boring fishing stories? Or maybe by taking off running after you the moment he thought you were in danger. Something like that?”

Staring at the ground, Snufkin went catatonic. Oh lord. Moomin was in love with him.

“I…” He shook his head, trying to grapple with the thought. “Are you sure?”

“Focus! I didn’t come here to knock universal truths into your head. I just wanted to be certain we were clear on one matter.” Taking Snufkin’s face between her paws, Little My smushed his cheeks up. “You. Moomin’s heart. My fist. Your teeth. Are we clear?”

“Moomin loves me?” The words came out muffled.

“Useless!” Dropping him, Little My stalked off. “You’re both useless!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "HIMBO RIGHTS!" -Little My


	24. In Which Rules Are Broken

It was a quiet day.

Snufkin hadn’t worked up the courage to say anything, busy deciding and then re-deciding every ten minutes that Little My was either a herald of truth or a beacon of mischief. He could see her laughing at him now, doubled over as she howled. _“You believed me? You actually believed that Moomin was in love with you?”_ The prank did seem more cruel than mischievous, which made him think she was telling the truth, but then again…

Now that she had brought his attention to it, it was almost impossible not to notice how many excuses they found to touch one another. The fingers brushing under the table, tails lazily entwining… it was almost enough to make one suspicious. Laying his head back down on Moomin’s leg, Snufkin closed his eyes, purring as Moomin continued untangling his hair.

“I don’t think they’ll find it this time,” humming happily, Moomin continued his story. “Or at least, not for a while.”

“Who knows. They certainly have a talent for meddling.”

“And done!” Ruffling Snufkin’s hair, Moomin smiled. “Groomed like a proper gentleman!”

“I doubt I’ll ever be anything of the sort, but I appreciate the gesture.” Rolling onto his back, Snufkin looked up at Moomin, who was giggling.

“You are a proper gentleman, Snufkin!”

“Am I? Hardly seems like it.”

“Or at least, you’re a proper man.”

“Proper?”

“A man. You’re a man.” Moomin held a finger up, “But a nicely groomed one.”

“I am a man,” Snufkin flexed a skinny arm, “or have you forgotten my incredible maturity already?”

“Mature, oh yes. Is that why you put salt in Sniff’s coffee?”

“He didn’t even notice!” Exasperated, Snufkin flung his paws up in the air. “He drank the whole thing!”

“Real men oughtn’t tease others. Unless they deserve it, of course.”

“I cannot help being clever.”

“You _can_ help being sneaky.”

“Can’t do that either,” Snufkin shook his head. “It’s bad to go against one’s nature, and my nature is to upturn the rules.”

“Your nature or your restlessness?”

“My nature. My entire self is designed to rebel. I can’t help it.” Carrying on the only-sort-of joke, Snufkin shrugged dramatically.

Laughing, Moomin smiled, making Snufkin’s heart flip. What a phenomenal Moomintroll.

“I don’t suppose,” going quiet, Moomin fidgeted with his paws. “Do you happen to know if there are any rules about kissing your best friend in a field?”

Snufkin looked at the tall grass waving above his head. “I’m not sure. Are there?”

“I think there are. I think it is absolutely forbidden.”

“Forbidden, you say?” Sitting up, Snufkin suppressed the cheek-splitting smile bubbling up inside him.

“Whatever you do, you mustn’t kiss any best friends in any fields.”

“I shouldn’t?”

“More than shouldn’t. Can’t.”

“Well, I think you’re underestimating my abilities.”

“Oh, no, it’s impossible. No one has ever been kissed in a field. Can’t be done.”

“We’ll see about that.” Taking Moomin’s cheeks in his paws, Snufkin leaned in, pressing their snouts together.

“Oh!” Gasping as if scandalized, Moomin tried not to laugh.

Heart light, Snufkin ruffled his fur with his nose, drawing his face up to press a kiss to the top of Moomin’s snout.

“I warned you, Moomin. I have been known for my wily ways.”

“You are bad news, indeed.” Gentle as ever, Moomin covered Snufkin’s paws with his own, finally breaking into a laugh. “Hey, Snufkin?”

“Yes?”

“If I say something, do you promise not to be offended?”

“I…” gut sinking, Snufkin paused, thinking of every terrible thing Moomin might say to him. “I can try.”

“It’s kind of funny, how you kiss with your whole face.”

“What?” Pulling back, Snufkin looked at him quizzically.

“It’s not just your snout. You kiss with your mouth too. It’s not a bad thing,” Moomin backtracked. “I just think it’s- well, it’s cute.”

Unable to process being called cute, Snufkin made the executive decision to jump over that point. “I actually- That’s not the way-“ Frowning, Snufkin furrowed his brow. Where had he learned to kiss like that? Now that Moomin mentioned it, it was odd. “That’s how Mymble kissed her boyfriends, wasn’t it? Noses touching, with the lips?”

“Oh,” Moomin flushed, going pink enough for the color to show through the thinner fur on his ears and nose.

“I’ve never really thought about it much. It is weird, isn’t it?”

“Not that weird,” Moomin twirled the fluff of his tail around his finger, ears flicking about.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all! I like it.”

“It is a strange idea; kissing with mouths. Although,” Snufkin snapped his fingers. “Last Midsummer, at the bonfire. Too-Ticky kissed my sister right on the lips. Do you remember that?”

“I mustn’t have been paying attention.”

“I wasn’t paying attention either. It was just something I happened to see.”

“How… How would that work?”

“You just put your lips together.”

“Yes, but…” Moomin stared at Snufkin pointedly. “How?”

“Well, you’d have to… I’d need to…” Humming contemplatively, Snufkin examined Moomin from a variety of angles. “Not easily.”

“I could tilt my head up.” Moomin looked straight upwards. “Oh. I can’t imagine that would be comfortable for long.”

“No, it wouldn’t. I could try… Here, if you get your head just a little back, I can-“ Snufkin bonked his forehead on the bottom of Moomin’s snout. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“It didn’t hurt, don’t worry. But you might be almost right; if you went sideways, it could work.”

“How would I go sideways?”

“One of us could lay down?”

Snufkin’s tail thwapped wildly behind him. Pulling a paw down on it, he cleared his throat. “That could work.”

“Do we… Do you want to lie down? Or…”

“We could flip a coin?”

“Or I could just lay down.”

“That would also work.”

“Alright.” Carefully, Moomin settled into the grass, paws twisting nervously. “Okay. Now do you…”

“Oh! Right.” Clearing his throat again, Snufkin leaned in, pausing a moment to cup Moomin’s face between his paws. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Alright. I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay.”

With nothing else left to say, Snufkin leaned in, aiming as best he could. To his surprise and delight, he actually managed to kiss the corner of Moomin’s mouth. Realigning himself, he tried the kiss again, still tense with nerves.

Slowly, just as confused, Moomin placed a paw on Snufkin’s neck, holding onto him. The gentle touch sent tingles down his back, making him shiver. He would never be able to reconcile the fact that he was kissing his best friend, no matter how weird the kiss might be.

Steadier now, he pulled back only far enough to reintroduce the kiss, quite excited to feel Moomin kissing him back. It was an odd sensation, though not a bad one; he’d been experiencing a lot of that as of late. Paws tightening in his hair, Moomin held onto him, sighing heavenly as he pursed his lips, the gesture gentle as palm against pilgrim palm, and twice as intimate.

Refiguring his own grip, Snufkin used one paw to keep himself balanced, letting the other brush through the fur along Moomin’s cheek. Moomin, for his own part, wrapped an arm around Snufkin’s back, tugging him closer, bringing him up onto his chest. Pulling back for a breath, Snufkin nudged Moomin’s cheek with his nose, letting his open lips brush against him. His fur was impossibly soft, feather-light against his skin, making Snufkin wish he could burrow against him and curl up. No wonder Moomins hibernated all winter; who could stay awake while surrounded by such comfort?

Kissing Moomin again, Snufkin let his fingers curl against his cheeks, grip getting tighter. He wanted to wrap his arms around his neck, crawl into his lap. He wanted Moomin to hold him, kiss his forehead and call him silly. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so safe, but- No; that was a lie. He knew perfectly well when the last time was. But this was different. There was no urgency, no driving need or excuse or whatever you wanted to call it. This was just him and them and their moment. This was special, as all moments with Moomintroll were, only doubly so.

 

Fingers still tangled in his hair, Moomin drew Snufkin closer, his breath warm on his face. And then, without warning, Snufkin opened his lips, pressed his mouth to Moomin’s as if he might be lucky enough to become the air he breathed. Sighing heavily, Moomin shivered, curling his fingers into Snufkin’s hair.

 _Mymble’s boyfriends,_ that’s what he had said. _That’s how she kissed her boyfriends. Boyfriends. Boyfriend kisses. Boyfriends._ It did seem weird that he would be so casual about it, but then again, this was Snufkin. No doubt he just didn’t want to make a big fuss.

Trying not to groan, Moomin muffled his voice on Snufkin’s lips, tongue curling against his teeth as he decided to hold his breath as long as he could. With this as his incentive, there was no way he wouldn’t surpass his record. Or at least, so he thought up until his tongue accidently touched Snufkin’s. With some alarm, he startled, but not feeling him flinch away, Moomin relaxed into the sensation. Now _this_ was intimacy, he thought, and the idea terrified him. Or at least, it should have terrified him, but he was too busy feeling how lovely it was to have his best friend’s tongue push against his lips. Moaning, Snufkin flushed, unable to stop the sound. Feeling much the same, Moomin tugged at Snufkin’s back, pulling him atop himself. Wonderfully clever, Snufkin lifted his foot, easily sliding his leg across Moomin’s waist, straddling him. Tongue still against his lips, Moomin combed his fingers up the back of Snufkin’s head, grasping at him.

Kissing Snufkin was… Well… It was something Moomin couldn’t compare. It was all the perfection of the season’s first truly ripe peach, but also the crackle and snap of firewood as it broke into embers. Kissing him was soft… It required a lot more work than just pushing his nose down. Snufkin kissed with his whole body; his paws, his nose, his lips… His lips.

There was something about kissing Snufkin that made Moomin want to be sure he used all of his senses. How could he kiss Snufkin and not breathe in his honey-warm smell of last night’s campfire, the still lingering but distant floral perfume of sweat and need? How could he listen to his small gasps and gentle moans and not get wrapped up in the pressure his paws placed upon his face, sturdy and inviting? And, of course, there was the taste. There was the feel that came with the taste, naturally- Warm. Soft. Wet. Smooth, open, wanting. The feel set the stage. The taste itself was thick, carried on his breath as his lungs hitched, trying to hold onto as much air as they could. It was a taste like bitter drinks and charred wood; a dull, lingering taste that he hoped would never brush out of his teeth.

Sitting up, Moomin pulled at Snufkin’s side again, holding him to himself, fingers twitching against him as he reclined him on an angle so that neither had to work too hard. Wrapping his arms about Moomin’s neck, Snufkin sighed, relaxing into his grip, allowing himself to be held.

Taking a breath, Snufkin ruffled Moomin’s fur with his nose, his breathing labored and slow. Pressing his own snout to Snufkin’s shoulder, Moomin reciprocated the gesture, closing his eyes to better focus on the scent of dirt and grass and open sky. He smelled like summer; he smelled like Snufkin.

Gentle, Snufkin began to scratch at the sensitive fur behind Moomin’s ears, causing them to twitch. Chuckling, Snufkin tilted Moomin’s head down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Flushed and happy, he bobbed his snout upwards in return, kissing the bottom of Snufkin’s chin, earning another laugh, and then they were nose to nose again, sighing happily in their mutual recklessness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all: Oh thank god, at last they're finally on the same page  
> Me: Hold my beer


	25. In Which Snufkin Regrets Having Sisters

“It’s been far too long since you visited!”

Snufkin followed his sister into her kitchen, anxiously pulling at his sleeves. He didn’t like being indoors much, but he especially didn’t like being indoors for the purpose of having an uncomfortable conversation.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I’m sure.” After pouring a cup of coffee for Snufkin, Mymble stirred some sugar into her own.

“Where’s Too-Ticky?”

“Still fishing, I presume.”

Snufkin nodded, feeling somewhat jealous. “Oh.”

“You’re allowed to sit down.”

“Right.” Pulling a chair out from the table, Snufkin sat awkwardly, gripping his mug. “So… Is she a good fisher?”

“Excellent. She’s excellent at everything she does.” Mymble stared out the window wistfully.

“Is she a good cook?”

“Everything except that.” smiling, Mymble turned back to him.

“It must be very difficult to love someone who isn’t a good cook.”

“I do the cooking.”

“Does she like her cooking?”

“I presume so.”

“Doesn’t that start fights?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Frowning, Mymble glanced over him.

“I feel fine. I’m just making light conversation.”

“Light conversation?”

“Yes. How do you love someone when they don’t like every single thing about you?”

“That is… not light conversation.”

“Sure it is. So what do you think? If Too-Ticky suddenly asked you to stop cooking for her you’d be upset, right? Sometimes people get upset when other people don’t do what they want them to do or feel the way that they want them to feel. Isn’t that frustrating? There are all these expectations and you keep ruining them without entirely meaning to just because you don’t realize that they’re there. And then by the time you realize it, it’s too late because you already are the way you are and there’s nothing to be done that can change that now. Don’t you ever think about that?”

Mymble stared at him silently, her eyes wide open.

“I think Moomin might be in love with me.” Snufkin’s shoulders fell.

“Okay. This all makes a bit more sense then.” Mymble took a long drink from her coffee, gesturing towards him.

“I don’t know what to do!” Groaning, Snufkin held his face in his paws. “I never thought that this would be a problem I would have to deal with!”

“I take it you’re not happy about it?”

“How could I be?”

“I’m sorry. These things happen. It isn’t surprising.” Mymble shrugged, patting Snufkin’s arm.

“Not to me, they don’t! What do I say to him?”

“I find it’s best to be honest. Unrequited love hurts, but not so much as-“

“Unrequited? No, that’s not the problem.”

“Oh?” Mymble raised an eyebrow.

“I love him too.”

“Then… That’s…” She did some quick calculations in her head. “What exactly is the problem?”

Snufkin sighed. Had she not been listening? “Moomin likes me as more than a friend.”

“And you like him as more than a friend?”

“Yes.”

“So… You are both in love with one another?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to act on it because…?”

“I do want to act on it.” Snufkin nodded his head.

“Oh, okay. I see. So you need to figure out how to tell him?”

“Oh, I could never tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because. He might not like me back.”

Taking a deep breath, Mymble rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You just said that he did.”

“Yes, but one can never be certain.”

“Okay.” Mymble set her paws on the table as if laying out a map. “So what makes you think that he likes you as more than a friend?”

“Little My told me.”

“Is that all?”

“She was very convincing.”

“Has he ever done anything romantic? Brought you flowers?”

“Flowers? No. Romantic? Yes.” He thought of the jar of worms Moomin had given him.

“Has he ever tried to hold your paw?”

Snufkin thought hard. “Not that I can remember.”

“Okay. Do you ever get the feeling that he might try to kiss you?”

“All the time,” Snufkin nodded. “Usually right before he kisses me.”

“You-“ Mymble sighed, pushing her hair back. “You two kiss?”

“A lot.”

“On the lips?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Mostly lips and snout, yes.” Uncomfortable, Snufkin looked away, casually giving thorough examination to the wood paneling on the wall. It was nice wood. Was that oak? It looked like oak.

“Mostly. Okay. Where else- How else-”

“All sorts of places. You’d be surprised.”

“Snufkin.” Mymble’s voice sounded exhausted. He hoped she had been getting enough sleep. “Are you and Moomin… Do you…” She sighed. “Are you two… being intimate?”

“He’s my closest friend.”

“By my tail.” She groaned. “But are you two _intimate_? Mating?”

Oh my. Snufkin flinched at the word, covering the movement with a cough. “That’s an interesting question. I think the problem with labeling things too quickly is-“

“Snufkin.” Her tone told him the question was not one to be avoided.

“Yes.” He positively wanted to die.

“You are…” Mymble sat up again, recomposing herself. “You are absolutely your father’s child. Alright. Let’s start at the beginning, okay? When and how did all of this start?”

Snufkin flushed. This was beyond embarrassing. He didn’t want to talk to his sister about this! But she had wooed more boys than anybody he knew, and he didn’t know who else he could talk to, so…

“We had a small adventure.”

“Okay.”

“And then I found out I was having a… very specific problem.”

“Problem?”

“A very specific problem.”

“What was it?”

“A mumrik problem.”

“Mumriks have a lot of problems.”

“Yes, but this one was specific.”

“Snufkin.”

“Heat! It was a heat okay?” Mortified, Snufkin stared at the ceiling.

“You could have just said so!”

“I really couldn’t.”

“Alright, at least we’re finally getting somewhere. So it surprised you?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been in a settled cycle?”

“Settled?” He looked at her in surprise. “They settle?”

“Snufkin.” Mymble buried her face in her paws. “Do you mean to tell me you started your heats and immediately began sleeping with your best friend?”

“Yes.”

“And just assumed that for the rest of your life you’d keep waking up in heat panics?”

“I won’t?”

“Mom needs to start giving out pamphlets before letting you all go. Okay.” Mymble clapped her paws together, pointing them towards Snufkin. “It’s going to be rough for a while, but yes. You will settle.”

“Good to know.” Snufkin nodded.

“Yes. So you’ve been sleeping with Moomin?”

“Yes.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.”

“And he loves you too?”

“I think so.”

“And you’re not saying anything because you’re scared that he doesn’t love you back?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Sighing, Mymble took a long drink from her mug. “You’re right. You do have a problem.”

“Yes!” Relieved that she was finally seeing sense, Snufkin groaned, sitting back.

With a clatter, the back door opened and Too-Ticky came in.

“Snufkin! Good to see you.” Smiling, Too-Ticky set down her fishing rod, coming around the table to kiss Mymble. “What brings you our way?”

“My brother’s fallen in love with Moomintroll.” To Snufkin’s utter horror, Mymble casually dropped the bombshell of his secret.

“Has he? Good for him, then.” Humming, Too-Ticky fixed herself a coffee.

“He also wants to know if you mind my cooking.”

Laughing, Too-Ticky joined them at the table, covering Mymble’s paw with her own. “What’s there to mind? She’s excellent at it.”

“Don’t you miss cooking for yourself?” Snufkin tugged at his scarf, hoping they could skip over the bit about him being disgustingly in love.

“Not a bit. Nothing to miss if there’s nothing to lose.” Too-Ticky chuckled. “You’ve fallen into proper love with Moomintroll then?”

“I didn’t say that,” Snufkin waved his paws defensively.

“No, no, of course not.” She sipped her coffee. “It’s about time, though. Don’t you think?”

“I was waiting, honestly. I’m just relieved he finally committed.” Mymble carried on the conversation as if Snufkin wasn’t there. “The Moomins are such good people.”

“The best sort of people. Good on you, Snufkin.”

“This isn’t- You don’t-“

“So how’d you tell him?”

“He hasn’t told him yet.”

“Why not?” Too-Ticky looked at him with such wide eyes Snufkin couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“He says Moomin might not love him back.”

“I can speak for myself,” Snufkin squeaked.

“Can you?”

“Not love you back?” Too-Ticky hummed, thinking. “That’s a good reason. One of the best reasons.”

“Mymble thinks it’s a mistake.”

“Oh, it absolutely is.” Too-Ticky nodded. “Just because it’s understandable doesn’t make it a good decision.”

“I’m not going to put him in that position!”

“What position? The position of having someone love him?” Too-Ticky whistled, shaking her head. “There are much worse positions to be in.”

“It’s my own business.” Snufkin tugged at the brim of his hat, deeply uncomfortable. This was why he didn’t go indoors.

“Of course, of course.” Nodding, Too-Ticky reached towards him, placing a paw on the table but not touching him. “But don’t you think it’s the littlest bit Moomin’s business too?”

“They’ve been sleeping together, you know.”

“Mymble!” Horrified, Snufkin pushed his hat back to stare at his sister in disbelief.

Mymble just shrugged. “Secrets don’t count if you’re married.”

“Oh lord,” covering his eyes with his paws, Snufkin willed the floor to open up beneath him.

“Nothing to be scandalized by, Snufkin. It’s perfectly fine. Why, when I first started courting your sister-“

“I really do not want to hear this.” Clasping his paws over his ears, Snufkin flushed. This had been a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Grabbing his arm, Mymble tried to pull his paw away. “There was a lot of kissing involved. Lots of paw holding. Very tender and erotic.”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Sweet love. Passionate love. Sensual love.”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“Don’t torment your brother, Dear.” Taking a long drink from her coffee, Too-Ticky pat Mymble’s shoulder. Snufkin, for his own part, considered forcing his heart to stop beating so that he wouldn’t have to endure the knowledge of his sister’s love life. “There’s nothing shameful in it, Snufkin. It’s good you two are finally realizing your feelings.”

“The feelings are the problem! How am I supposed to know what he’s feeling?” Snufkin threw his paws up in the air.

“You could ask him. I’ve never known Moomintroll to be a liar.”

“I couldn’t possibly!”

“Could you tell him how _you_ feel?”

“No, absolutely not.” Snufkin shook his head.

“Do you want someone else to ask him?”

“I would rather they didn’t.”

“Well then,” Too-Ticky sighed. “You’d best get comfortable, because there’s no moving forward in this state.”

“You could do something romantic,” Mymble offered. “It might make it easier if the mood is already there.”

“I could bring him a fish. Moomin likes fish, right?” Snufkin looked between the two women, who took a moment to stare at one another.

“That’s… an option. Or,” sitting up, Mymble leaned in, happy to be in her element. “You can invite him over for coffee after dinner! Picture it; Moomin comes down to your campsite, and the entire thing is set up with candles and lanterns. You have a blanket set out and you two sit together and then after a while you invite him into your tent and say you have something to tell him. When he comes in, surprise! You’ve strewn rose petals everywhere! And there are more blankets and you kiss him and tell him there’s something very important you need to say and just as he leans in-”

“I’m not listening! I’m not listening!” Covering his ears again, Snufkin did his best to block out the sound of Mymble’s voice.

“Go easy on the lad,” Too-Ticky patted Mymble’s hand. “He’s not ready for all that. Your sister’s right, though.” Turning, Too-Ticky faced him. “You ought to do something special, just to ease the tension. It’ll make it all feel so much more natural. And at the end of the day, you’ll feel better for doing it.”

Nodding, Snufkin sighed, leaning his head down against the table. “I certainly hope so. I don’t imagine I could feel any worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month- Too-Ticky is a butch icon


	26. In Which Little My Has Problems Of Her Own

“Moomintroll and Snufkin really are quite fond of one another; aren’t they?”

Startled, Little My peeked up above her hand of cards, choosing her answer carefully. “Yes. They always have been.”

“Even more so than before, lately.” Snorkmaiden placed a card down, her tone still placid.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” Examining the card Little My set down in response, Snorkmaiden matched her.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Although, if I’m being honest, I do wish they would just come out and say it.”

“Say what?” Playing dumb, Little My took her turn. Far be it from her to entangle herself in other people's messes.

Sighing, Snorkmaiden leaned in, putting down her hand. “I just can’t figure out what’s taking them so long. That’s the worst part of it; the fact that they won’t admit to it.”

Not having a proper reply, Little My shrugged, still staring at her cards.

“My… I know you know something.”

“What makes you think I know anything?”

“You know a little bit of everything. Moominvalley isn’t sneaky enough to keep you out of its secrets.”

“Well,” Little My rubbed at her neck, calculating quickly. “I suppose I know some things. But it’s just as much as anybody else would know.”

“I knew it!” Pulling her knees up, Snorkmaiden sighed. “They are dating, aren’t they?”

“If they are, they haven’t told me.”

“They haven’t told anybody!”

“To be fair, I’m not certain even they know.”

Exasperated, Snorkmaiden groaned. “It’s perfectly infuriating! Do they think they can just do as they please? That it doesn’t affect anybody else?”

“So you _are_ jealous?”

“Jealous isn’t the right word. It’s…” Crossing her arms across her knees, she set her snout on them. “Irritated. I’m irritated.”

“At Moomin?”

“No. And not at Snufkin either, particularly. It’s just… Nevermind. It’s silly.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” putting down her cards, Little My leaned in, ready to listen.

“Well, it’s only that… When Moomin and I would play romance?”

“Yes?”

“It was always so big and grand and… nice. Even if it only started as play. It was nice. And just because it was a lot of acting didn’t mean it wasn’t real. It was real, at least to me. But then when I see him and the way he acts around Snufkin?” Resting a paw on her cheek, she sighed. “It’s so different. He’s quiet, and nervous, and all he has to do is look at Snufkin and everything about him lights up. He… They… It’s special, what they have. And it isn’t hard to tell that it’s real. But if that’s what it looks like, if that’s the real thing…” Drawing her shoulders up, Snorkmaiden rested her snout in her arms. “What does that say about me?”

“No offense, Snorkmaiden, but I don’t think them dating is an attempt to say anything about you at all.”

“I know, but I still- Nevermind! I told you it was silly.” Picking up her cards in a huff, she tried to keep her ears from flicking back.

“No, I only mean that the fact that he likes Snufkin now doesn’t mean he didn’t like you then. Look, would you really want to end up married to Moomin?”

“I used to think so,” Snorkmaiden shrugged.

“But do you now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? He’d have a lot of cleaning up to do first.”

“Exactly! Worrying about a boy you don’t even want is useless. But also, just because him and Snufkin are different than him and you doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Are you Snufkin?”

Snorkmaiden blinked slowly. “No?”

“Do you enjoy endless fishing and traveling far away every year?”

“No, of course not.”

“And does Snufkin like shiny trinkets and grand gestures?”

“No.”

“Then no wonder it’s different! Moomin isn’t as stupid as he looks, you know.” Picking up her cards again, she rifled through them. “He knows how to romance whoever it is he happens to be dating at the time.”

“I suppose so. It still feels rather sneaky of them.”

“Boys are always sneaky. They’re not worth the effort.” Little My played her next card.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Harrumphing, Snorkmaiden matched her. “I’m starting to think Mymble had the right idea. Boys are fun, but they aren’t meant for marrying.”

“Let them have each other. We’ll find you a nice girlfriend.”

“Do you think we could find someone who likes flowers and baking?”

“I’d wager we could. And if we can’t, I’ll date you.”

Snorkmaiden laughed. “I don’t know, Little My. You might not be courtly enough for my taste.”

“Well then. I’ll just have to borrow Moomin’s romance novels and start studying. Give me a month, and I’ll have you swept off your feet, fair lady.”

Giggling, Snorkmaiden hid her smile behind her paws. “Best of luck to you, noble sir.” She placed her card down. “And you’ll need it too, because I just won.”

“The game was rigged anyway,” My tossed her cards aside in defeat.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride month, y'all. We've reached a gay singularity


	27. In Which Both Moomin and Snufkin Get Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter adds... some? things to the plot? Barely. I'll add a note at the end for skippers

It was the sort of day that ought to last forever; perfectly bright, with just enough nip in the air to make sitting outside comfortable. Resting beside the riverbank, Moomin picked small clovers from the ground as Snufkin watched. It was fascinating, the way he ruffled his fingers through the grass, absentminded as he pulled at the leaves. All at once his heart was swelled with the full extent of his adoration. That had been happening a lot lately. It was unsurprising, really; Moomintroll was easy to adore.

Lazily, Snufkin wrapped his arms around Moomin’s shoulders, resting his face on the back of his neck. Giggling, Moomin reached back to pet Snufkin’s head. “Are you feeling silly?”

“No. Just wanted to be close.”

“Okay.”

Snufkin nuzzled his nose into the fur, sighing happily. Stretching his legs out, he did his best impression of a backpack. How lovely it would be, to go everywhere Moomintroll went. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why he’d ever want to wander further than an arm’s length away.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Phenomenal.” Snufkin kissed the back of Moomin’s neck again. “Is it weird if- Can I see your teeth?” Blurting the question out, Snufkin only thought to feel embarrassed once Moomin looked back over his shoulder quizzically.

“Er… Go ahead.” Tilting his head to the side, Moomin looked upwards. Fascinated, Snufkin leaned in closer, hooking a finger into Moomin’s cheek so that he could get a better look.

“Hnuhkih?” Moomin’s brow furrowed as he tried to peer at Snufkin out of the corner of his eye.

“Just curious.”

“Awow wah?”

“Your teeth are sharper than I supposed.”

“Harher?”

“Yeah. Remember the tavern?”

Moomin rolled his eyes, a gesture clearly meant to convey, “How could I possibly forget?”

“No need to act like that. All I meant was that I was surprised to see how sharp your teeth were.”

“Has wah yeh wah haying assensien do?” Moomin’s brow furrowed.

“I was extremely occupied, lest you forget. As far as I knew, I was a criminal on the run.”

“Charihal?”

“Crimes of passion, but crimes nonetheless.”

“Oh lawrd, Hnuhkih. Ah yeh heriouh?” Moomin rolled his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Peering in, he squinted his eyes. “Besides, I had just learned moomins growl. It was a very complicated time for me.”

“Errrrrrrrr!” Moomin smiled, ruining the effect. Snufkin laughed, taking his paw back.

“Make it twice as fearsome and you’ve got it.”

A low rumbling spread from Moomin’s belly up to the back of his throat, his lips pulling into a snarl, and Snufkin went nearly breathless. Transfixed, Snufkin stared, grip tightening over Moomin’s chest as exhilaration muddied his thoughts.

“Do… Can you do that again?”

Tail whipping back and forth, Moomin balled his paws into fists, staring at Snufkin as he growled, low and threatening. Nearly tumbling backwards, Snufkin felt his face pale as his paws went shaky.

“Snufkin?” Eyes wide with worry, Moomin touched Snufkin’s arm. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?”

Shaking his head lightly, Snufkin fidgeted, toes curling in his boots. “No, I just…” Pressing his knees to Moomin’s sides, he flushed. “I think I’m having a snufkin sort of problem.”

“Are you serious?” Moomin’s eyebrows shot up. “That was what made you realize?”

“I told you,” Snufkin looked down, impossibly red. “It was very distracting!”

Giggling, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s flushed forehead. “Want to go back to your tent?”

“Yes please.” Heart practically choking him, he tried to remember to breathe as Moomin laced his paws beneath his legs, hoisting him up onto his back to carry him.

 

 

 

“It won’t be as comfortable as your bed,” pushing the tent flap in, Snufkin hopped down, taking his hat off before starting to pull at his scarf.

“I don’t care.”

“And I don’t have a whole lot of pillows or anything.”

“Alright.”

“I also haven’t cleaned in… ever, so I’m sorry if-“ his words were cut off as Moomin pressed his snout to the back of his neck, making him even more flushed than before.

“Hey Snufkin?”

“Yes?”

“You really do talk a lot when you get nervous.”

“I know.” Leaning back, he let Moomin kiss the top of his head, paws coming around to hold onto him, settling Snufkin between his legs, cuddling him.

“I don’t suppose you expect me to growl at you this entire time?”

“No,” Snufkin shook his head. “It was just an exciting thing to experience.”

“Okay, good.” Moomin kissed his cheek, snout sliding down to kiss along his neck and shoulder. Whining, Snufkin drew his knees in, squirming as his loving friend continued to terrorize him with gentle caresses.

“Sorry. I really- Ah! I really thought it would be out of my system by now.” Panting, Snufkin arched his back, whimpered pathetically.

Moomin only laughed, nuzzling him gently. “It’s a learning experience for both of us. Just think of it as another adventure.”

“It’s certainly unlike any adventure I’ve had before.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. But I haven’t the slightest clue what to expect.”

“You can expect me to take care of you.”

“That’s true.” Groaning, Snufkin tilted his head to the side, nuzzling Moomin back.

Gently, as if waiting to be stopped, Moomin undid Snufkin’s trousers, not bothering to take them off before pushing a paw down the front.

Gasping, Snufkin grabbed ahold of the back of Moomin’s neck, tugging at the fur with his paws.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to- Ah!” Gasping again, he did his best to relax his grip, not wanting to hurt Moomin.

“Is this okay?” Moomin sounded genuinely concerned, as if there could ever possibly be anything not to like about his paws in Snufkin’s pants.

“Very okay.” Panting, Snufkin bucked upwards into the touch, trying to grind himself against Moomin’s palm.

“You’re very warm,” Moomin pressed his snout to Snufkin’s forehead. Unable to properly reply, Snufkin let out an embarrassingly needy moan. Moomin giggled.

“Sorry! If I’m too loud, just tell me-” As if to make the point, he moaned again.

 

“No! I like it. I think it’s nice, being able to hear you.” Snufkin wasn’t the sort to make his emotions readily available, and so Moomin liked knowing what he was thinking. It was a compass of sorts, letting him know when he was doing something right. Evidently whatever he was doing was _very_ right, because Snufkin’s paws gripped Moomin’s thighs, his shoulders drawing up as he panted heavily, legs kicking into place as his knees spread apart.

“Moomin, please, I-“ He shuddered, fingers tightening in Moomin’s fur. His eyes squinted shut, teeth clenched as his breath hissed, heavy and warm, filling the tent with the sound. Knowing what his boyfriend really needed and deciding the stage was thoroughly set, Moomin tried to pull back, only to be stopped as Snufkin grabbed his arm, rocking back against him.

“Please don’t stop just yet! I-” Crying out, Snufkin bit down on his lip, entire body shaking.

“It’s okay, I won’t stop. Not until you’re finished, right?”

Nodding quickly, Snufkin ground back against Moomin once again, causing Moomin to groan against his shoulder.

“Ah- Snuf…” Moomin sighed, his hold around Snufkin’s abdomen tightening. He could feel the ragged movement of Snufkin’s breath, the overwhelming heat of his body as he pressed back against him, head rocking onto Moomin’s shoulder. His gasps were no longer muffled, open-mouthed sounds occurring dangerously close to Moomin’s ear, almost causing him to lose his concentration. Oh lord… He needed Snufkin right now, needed to bury himself deep in the perfumed smell of his readiness, all heat and slick and tight muscles and-

Snufkin interrupted his thoughts, thighs lifting as he cried out again, groaning. Responding to the sound, Moomin kept going exactly as he was, heart clenching as he watched the way Snufkin’s legs trembled from the effort of his pointed toes. Drawing his focus back, Moomin closed his eyes, absolutely lost in the soft heat slicking his paw, the feel of Snufkin’s back against his stomach, the building need pressing inside him. Bending lower, Moomin tugged Snufkin’s pants down to give him better use of his wrist. Fascinated, he watched his fingers move over him, kissing Snufkin’s neck as he keened.

“Do you mind if I-“

“Please!” Legs splayed open, Snufkin bucked up into his palm. Slowly, making sure to take his time, Moomin pressed a finger inside him, keeping the steady rhythm.

Gasping, Snufkin brought a hand to the back of Moomin’s neck, holding him tightly as he panted. Taking Snufkin’s exuberance as sign he was still moving in the right direction, he added a second finger, stroking him carefully, curiously. Whining, Snufkin pressed down against his hand, always seeking more. Happy to comply, Moomin kissed along his face, his temple, unable to help but smile at how cute he was. He was so beautiful, so perfect.

“M-Moomin, I- Ah- You’re- You’re so- I can’t-”

“I’ve got you, Snuf. It’s okay.”

That was, of course, an understatement. Things were more than okay, unless it was just “okay” to have his love unspooling at his fingertips, legs shaking as he moaned his name (His name! Moomin’s name!), thinking of Moomin and only Moomin as, in his desperation, Snufkin came to the steady demand of Moomin’s paw, his body soft as spring blooms and twice as lovely. Yes, things were definitely more than okay.

Falling back with a slump, Snufkin practically melted onto the tent floor with a sigh. Unable to help but chuckle at the sight, Moomin pet his hair back, pressing another kiss to the top of Snufkin’s head. Without even opening his eyes, Snufkin rolled over, using Moomin’s leg as a pillow as he very neatly took Moomin’s peeking arousal into his paw.

Gasping, Moomin watched his boyfriend as he opened an eye, smiling mischievously as he slid his paw over and around him, sighing happily.

“You sure you don’t need a break, o-or-” Moomin’s tongue tripped over his words, his mind too busy watching Snufkin prop his cheek against a paw, shaking his head.

“No. Do you need one?”

“No.”

“Then do you mind if I-?”

“So long as you don’t mind.”

“I certainly don’t.”

“Okay. That’s good. I suppose.”

“We’ll find out.”

“Alright.”

Having run out of clever banter, Snufkin turned his attention back to the matter at paw, gently stroking Moomin a few more times before leaning in.

“Oh!” Flushing, Moomin covered his mouth, gasping loudly despite the fact that he had promised himself he’d be more collected at the gesture the second time around.

“Are you okay?” Snufkin peered up at him, eyes impossibly large and wonderfully dark as he pulled back.

“Yes! Yes. I just…” Moomin swallowed hard. “Wow.”

 

Smiling, Snufkin chuckled, flustered. Moomin was so cute. Purring, he leaned back down, barely having set his lips upon him before Moomin was unsheathing into his mouth.

“Someone’s impatient.” Snufkin regretted the words almost as soon as he spoke them, Moomin immediately hiding his face behind his paws.

“I’m sorry! It was just so nice getting to hold you, and-”

“Don’t apologize! I like it.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Moomin groaned.

“It’s only embarrassing if you don’t want it.”

“I do want it. I want you.”

“Then it isn’t embarrassing.” Snufkin slid his paw down Moomin’s length, stroking him lightly. “I like knowing that I can make you happy.”

“You really do,” Moomin peeked out from between his fingertips.

“Good,” Snufkin smiled, purring again. “Let me know when to stop, okay?”

“I will.”

“Someday I’ll get you to finish, but,” Snufkin grimaced apologetically.

“No, of course! More than happy. In fact-“ Moomin never finished his sentence, his paws flying to Snufkin’s hair as his words became a gasp. “O-oh!”

Humming a groan, Snufkin bobbed his head down, relaxing his jaw. He could feel Moomin’s legs curl, knees closing in around him. Whining out an incredible noise, Moomin practically bent in half, his snout brushing against the top of Snufkin’s head.

Slowly, not wanting to tempt his friend too badly, Snufkin moved his paw again, pulling his lips back to chase his fingers with his tongue.

“S-Snuf- Snufkin-“ Moomin covered his mouth with his paw again, whimpering. It wasn’t a request to stop and so he didn’t, making it his mission to find every single groove along the very slick surface. Gasping, Moomin twitched, his voice going low, registering as something that might have been a purr, had moomins been capable.

Frantic at the sound, Snufkin ran his tongue along the tip again, taking him back into his cheek. Even if he couldn’t return Moomin’s favor in entirety, he was going to make sure he had a fair turn. Or at least, he intended to. He hoped to. With the noises Moomin was making, there was no telling how long Snufkin would last. Already his need had reworked itself into a fever pitch, heart racing with each little sound. With another groan, Moomin carded his fingers into Snufkin’s hair, holding onto him as if to ground himself. Gently, unintentionally, Moomin bucked up into Snufkin’s mouth, pushing himself towards the back of his throat.

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Moomin apologized, his words bookended with heavy breaths. But Snufkin only purred, eyes squeezing shut as he forced himself not to put his own paws down his pants. This was Moomin’s time, Moomin’s moment. No need to get selfish. If he let himself chase his own need, he wouldn’t be able to focus.

Pulling back to catch his breath, Snufkin continued to work him with his paw, watching the way Moomin tensed and responded with each stroke. He really did have great stamina. Almost too great. If he didn’t climb on top of him soon- No! This was Moomin’s time.

Whining, Snufkin drew his lips over the tip once more, pressing up with his tongue, not at all sorry when Moomin bucked up against him again.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying, I really am. But, Snuf, you’re-“ Moomin groaned again, fingers going tight. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“Do you want to slow down?” Snufkin wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his paw as Moomin shook his head frantically.

“No, I just can’t go so fast so slowly. I-” He groaned again. “I need you.”

“Help me with my buttons.” More than eager to comply, Snufkin tugged off his boots.

Undoing the top few buttons behind his neck, Moomin helped him lift the tunic over his head, setting it to the side as Snufkin stepped out of his trousers.

“Okay, so where do you-” Snufkin’s knees buckled, hands grabbing the back of Moomin’s head as his friend pressed his warm snout to Snufkin’s abdomen, earning a whimper.

Gently, Moomin guided Snufkin to the floor, pushing kisses against his chest and shoulders until Snufkin was fully reclined, shaking, his head tilted to the side as Moomin kissed his face.

“I always get surprised by how pretty you are. Every time, I tell myself I misremembered it, that no one can possibly be that pretty, but every time you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

“Moomin, you’re being silly.” Snufkin flushed, hands resting behind Moomin’s ears as he kissed his way down Snufkin’s belly.

“It’s true.” He could hear the smile in Moomin’s voice as he kissed his arms, his paws. “You’re so beautiful, Snuf.”

“You’re too much, Moomintroll!” Covering his face with his hands, Snufkin tried to hide his smile.

“If I wasn’t worried about other people finding it, I would try to draw you.”

“Stop!”

“I would. Or I would try, at least. Nothing could ever look as good. It’s lucky for me I get to have the real thing.”

“If you don’t stop talking silly I will…” What? What would he do? Leave? Impossible. “I will start wearing a bucket over my head.”

“No!” putting on a tableau of distress, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s inner knees. “Please don’t!”

“I might have to, if I’m as distracting as you say.”

“But if you wear a bucket, I shan’t be able to kiss you anymore!”

It was a very good argument. Snufkin was just about to think up something equally clever when Moomintroll leaned down, pressing a kiss between his legs. Gasping, Snufkin arched his back.

“I thought you weren’t going slowly?”

“I know, but it’s my favorite thing to do.” Leaning in, Moomin ran his tongue over Snufkin, hiking his legs up to get a better angle. Whining, Snufkin scratched at the fur on Moomin’s face, holding onto his snout.

“Moomintroll!”

“Just give me a minute.” Continuing as if he wasn’t making the situation exponentially more difficult, Moomin nuzzled in further, closing his eyes. Snufkin could almost hear his veins popping, insides throbbing with how badly he needed this, needed Moomin, needed to be touched and kissed and-

“Moomintroll!” Snufkin bucked upwards into the dizzying heat, seeing stars despite the canvas above him.

“Alright! Now who’s impatient?” Chiding him good-naturedly, Moomin got to his knees, slotting himself between Snufkin’s legs. Eager to help, Snufkin lifted his hips, staring as his friend closed his eyes, groaning as he pushed into him.

He almost closed his eyes too, but Snufkin wanted to watch this, to commit every bit of to memory. Ears flicking forward, Moomin moaned, holding Snufkin’s hips as he settled into a slow rhythm, thrusting easily.

Gasping quietly with each stroke, Snufkin bit his inner lip, not wanting to disrupt his friend’s concentration. Moomin was so serious, so nervous about doing it right that he didn’t realize it was utterly impossible for him to do it wrong. So long as he was here, he was happy. Purring, Snufkin balled his blanket into his fists, knees high in the air, legs loped over Moomin’s arms, letting the moomintroll hold him up. Not that Moomin seemed to mind the responsibility; he certainly was very strong.

Opening his eyes, Moomin looked down at him, a dazed look about him as he smiled, leaned in to press his snout to Snufkin’s forehead.

“Snuf, you feel so good.”

Flustered at such a simple compliment, Snufkin merely whimpered, well beyond the point of words. All that mattered now was the way Moomin felt inside him, the way he looked at him with such tenderness and longing. Groaning, Snufkin shivered, felt Moomin respond to the sound, stroking the same spot inside him, deep and lovely. Arching up, he pressed against Moomin as best he could, feeling his arms and legs begin to tremble. His instinct told him to call out, to tell Moomin to go faster, help push him over the edge into bliss, but as torturous as it was, he didn’t want this moment to end; this almost-bliss, almost-rapture wherein there were no questions of what or who or how, just soft gasps as they figured out all of the ways that their bodies could fit together. Snufkin felt like a lost puzzle piece finally found, and as Moomin rocked into him, he didn’t dare let this moment go unappreciated.

“Ah! Snufkin,” Moomin’s grip tightened, his snout burrowing against Snufkin’s neck. “Are- Are you-”

“So close,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “Just a bit more.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Keep going,” he breathed through the words, felt his stamina weaken. He could feel every bit of Moomin as he pushed inside him, stiff and welcoming, practically begging Snufkin to fall all to pieces around him. Whining, he gripped Moomin’s fur.

His heat virtually howled, begged him to think about exactly how thick Moomin felt, how easily he penetrated him, how soft his touch was, breath panting as he-

“Moomin!” Snufkin gasped, arching against him, back curling like a question mark asking how badly he wanted this.

“That’s it; keep going.”

“Moomin, I-” tongue tripping, Snufkin whimpered, the sound breaking with each stroke. Sensing his urgency, Moomin rocked quick and deep, kissing Snufkin’s neck as he did so.

Finally, crying out, Snufkin balled Moomin’s fur into his fists, burying his face into his friend’s shoulder as he finished, an energized pulse shooting out along every nerve in his body. Groaning, he clung to Moomin, his friend’s breath becoming heavier, relief creeping in along the edges. Always worried, his Moomintroll, as if he could ever leave him unsatisfied.

“Snufkin,” Moomin nuzzled his ear, his cheek. “Sn- Ah! Snufkin…”

Letting go, Snufkin lay back against the ground, lifting his hips up so that Moomin might have an easy finale. Moomin kissed his nose, panting all the while, before drawing back, looking down at him with such adoration that it broke Snufkin’s heart.

Purring, Snufkin brushed his paws along Moomin’s snout, smiling as Moomin pushed into the touch, a sigh breaking though his moans.

“Moomin.” Saying his friend’s name for the simple sake of saying it, Snufkin closed his eyes, enjoyed the sensation without the urgency, gasping quietly as Moomin slowed to long, steady strokes, groaning as he pressed his snout to Snufkin’s chin, warm and marvelous as he finished. “My Moomintroll.” Snufkin carded his fingers through the fur, kissing the top of Moomin’s snout, trailing up until he was pressing a kiss between his eyes. Moomin sighed happily as he finally relaxed, laying down beside Snufkin.

Still purring, Snufkin rolled onto his belly, pressing himself to Moomin’s chest, not quite prepared for everything to be over just yet. Sighing contentedly, he lay his head down on his arms, ready for sleep.

“Are you- Was that good?” Moomin ventured quietly.

Snufkin smiled, nodding without opened his eyes. Moomin pet his hair, drawing a finger down to stroke the fur along his nose, prompting Snufkin to open one eye and peek.

Totally enraptured, Moomin didn’t even notice Snufkin looking at first, only smiling back once he realized he’d been caught. “You’re so handsome.”

Groaning, Snufkin burrowed his face in his arms, tail thumping on the ground behind him.

“You are! So handsome.” Giggling, Moomin kissed the side of his face, petting along Snufkin’s back as he did so.

“You are too much, Moomintroll.”

“I am just the right amount of much for how handsome you are.”

“I am a sticky and sweaty mess.”

“Yes, but I like you sticky and sweaty. I’d like you no matter how you looked.”

“What if I turned green all over?”

“With your outfit, I don’t think anyone would notice.”

“Would you notice?”

“Probably. I’d probably look at you and say,” Moomin gestured out, pantomiming bewilderment, “Where on earth did this handsome man come from?”

Snufkin laughed despite his play-melancholy, unable to keep up the farce with a moomintroll so silly. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the top of Moomin’s snout.

“Well then. Aren’t I lucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skippers TS:DR (too sexy; didn't read) -
> 
> Moomin: "Wow I love my handsome boyfriend"  
> Snufkin: "Wow what a good and handsome friend"


	28. In Which Sniff Is A Genius

"Sniff! Open up, I know you're in there!” Little My pounded on the door.

Opening it just a crack, Sniff poked his nose out. “Little My, do you have any idea what time it is?” 

“It's nearly noon.” Little My squeezed through, inviting herself in. 

“Nearly? So not even noon yet.” Yawning, Sniff stretched as he followed her into his kitchen. 

“I thought you'd say that so I brought a bribe.”

“Bribe?” Sniff's ears went back. “I'm not sure I want any part of-” His sentence cut off as soon as Little My produced a raspberry tart. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to hear you out.” Snatching it, he took a bite. 

“I need your help.” Setting her bag down on the table, Little My turned it upside down, pouring out the contents. “You know more about sparkly things than anybody else.”

“What is all this stuff?” Confused, he looked over the pile of trinkets.

“Treasure!” Proudly, she gestured out across the table. 

“Doesn't look much like treasure,” Sniff held up a lone marble.

“Oh yes? Then what do you call this?” Triumphant, Little My held out her prized object. 

Taking it from her, he turned it over in his palm. “It's a rock.”

“A red clay rock! Look at the stripe.” She pointed to it proudly. “I found it myself.” 

“That doesn't make it treasure.”

“Well what about this?” She grabbed her sea glass. 

“Practically worthless.”

“Oh, what do you know!” Irritated now, Little My began shoving her things back in her bag. 

“Hey! You asked for my opinion!” Insulted, Sniff finished the last bite of his tart. 

“Well if you're so smart, what  _ is  _ treasure?”

“Lots of things. Rubies. Pirates treasure. Pearls. Expensive stuff.”

“Pearls,” Little My held a paw up, snapping her fingers. “Those come from oysters, right?” 

Sniff nodded, brushing the crumbs from his fingers. “Yeah. You gotta crack them open.” 

“If we get enough oysters, do you reckon we'd find enough pearls to make a necklace?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Brilliant. Okay, I'm going to need you to get a bucket and two rakes.”

“What's in it for me?’’ Sniff crossed his arms. 

“I'll let you keep all the leftover pearls.”

“I want half.”

“The leftover pearls and a whole tray of tarts.”

“Deal!” Extending his paws, he shook on it. 

“Good. Now come on!” Little My hoisted her bag back on her shoulder. “We've got oysters to catch!” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short lil chapter for today. I left my laptop at home so no updates while I'm away :( Hopefully I'll get something up Sunday. In the meantime, be gay do crime and 
> 
> Cheers


	29. In Which Snufkin Attempts Romance

Anxious, Snufkin tugged at his scarf, feeling very much like he couldn’t breathe. He had his second best blanket set out, the first being too dirty to use. He’d had to borrow the rest from Mymble, who had taken the opportunity to torture him some more with nagging questions and unnecessary advice, but it was a small price to pay; this had to be perfect. He was going to do it. He was going to woo Moomintroll. If he didn’t do it now, it would only get all the more difficult.

Entire body shaking, Snufkin gripped his coffee pitcher firmly, determined to be the picture of casual chivalry once Moomin arrived. Everything would be so casual. Incredibly casual. Looking around, he rethought the candles for the fourteenth time that night. He only had three, and they were all just plain beeswax. Maybe he oughtn’t have spread them out so far. As it was, they were arranged in a triangle surrounding the blanket. Was that romantic? Maybe he ought to have put them together. But that would just look silly. There was still time to light a campfire. But then what was the purpose of the candles?

“Hi, Snufkin!”

Jumping, Snufkin nearly threw the pitcher. “Moomin! Er,” he cleared his throat, nodding. “Moomin.”

“Can I sit?” Moomin’s tail swished behind him.

“Please,” Snufkin gestured to the empty space on the blanket. “Coffee?”

“Thank you.” Smiling, Moomin sat across from him. Trying his very hardest not to look like someone who was internally screaming, Snufkin poured a cup of coffee. Oh, this was a mistake. The candles were definitely a mistake. The soft light only made Moomin more handsome, more throat-closingly beautiful. Paws still shaking, Snufkin extended the cup stiffly.

 

“Thank you!” Moomin’s heart twisted into a knot of emotions. Snufkin had set up a date for them, and it was absolutely perfect. Especially since Snufkin wasn’t the sort of person who enjoyed romance novels and being silly in public, it was all the more incredible for the fact. Snufkin must really like him if he was willing to do all this.

Still giddy and nervous, Moomin took a drink of the coffee. It was burned. Snufkin never burned coffee; he must have been really distracted. Leaning in, Moomin pressed a kiss to his snout. “It’s very good.”

Even by the scant light of the candles (Candles! Snufkin had set up candles!) Moomin could see him blush, the color only making him all the more beautiful. It was odd, seeing Snufkin nervous; he usually was incredibly together. He must have worked very hard on this date. Moomin was very lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

 

He had burned the coffee. Everything was a disaster. Frantic, Snufkin tried to think of things to say, not wanting to leave Moomin in this awkward silence. Oh lord. Moomin must think he was so weird. This was a mistake. A big mistake. Huge mistake. He had to say something, anything, to alleviate the suffocating tension. This was so awkward. Why was he so awkward? _Say something, anything!_

“The stars!” Blurting the words out, Snufkin nodded.

“Yes.” Moomin looked upwards to the sky. “They’re lovely.”

_Not as lovely as you. That’s a good thing to say; tell him “Not as lovely as you.”_

“And you?” Snufkin gestured to Moomin with his cup.

“And me, what?” Moomin looked at him.

“I- How are you doing?” _Oh lord._

“I’m good. Better than good. This is really nice.” Moomin smiled, kind and soft.

“I’m glad to hear that. Because…” _Why did he start another sentence? He had nothing to say! Tell him you like spending time with him!_ “Me too.” _Incredible. Just incredible._

“Good.” Smiling, Moomin took another drink of his burned coffee.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“I know I ruined it.”

“No! It’s just…” looking at his cup, Moomin tried to decide what to say. “Different.”

“Burnt.”

“A little, maybe.”

Laughing, Snufkin felt a twinge of respite. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry!”

“I am anyway.”

“You spend a lot of time worrying, don’t you?”

“Not any more than anyone else.” Setting his cup aside, Snufkin sighed. Alright. So the coffee was burned, but that didn’t mean everything was ruined. He could still salvage this.

 

Snufkin had such a lovely mouth. There had been plenty of times when Moomin had gotten jealous of his harmonica, wishing he could spend his life going between Snufkin’s lips and pocket. When Snufkin smiled, everything in the world went quiet. He didn’t smile as much as Moomin thought he ought to, and most of the time when he did smile, it seemed somewhat sad. Regardless, Moomin thought his smile was the most beautiful thing ever. Putting his own coffee down, he took a moment’s pause to make sure Snufkin didn’t flinch back as he leaned in. Although he had kissed him plenty of times, Moomin still liked making sure it was okay. Snufkin didn’t always like to be touched, but right now he didn’t move away, and so placing a paw on his cheek, he bumped their snouts.

Relaxing, Snufkin cupped Moomin’s face between his paws, tilting his own head to the side. Craning his neck, Moomin felt Snufkin’s lips touch his own, the soft fur of his nose like velvet against him. He could taste the coffee on Snufkin’s tongue, the strong, bitter flavor contrasting with the light, soft pressure of the kiss. Stroking the sides of Snufkin’s face with his thumbs, Moomin pet the soft fur at his temples, letting his fingers tangle into Snufkin’s hair. What a beautiful mumrik. What a lovely Snufkin.

 

Poor Moomin, so desperate to get him to shut up, had resorted to kissing him. But it was fine, Snufkin thought. At least he got to kiss Moomin.

There was no way to stay sad when kissing someone as lovely as Moomintroll, so squeezing his eyes shut, Snufkin tried to keep himself from purring. He didn’t need to be embarrassed any further. Ever gentle, Moomin held his face between his paws, his grip making Snufkin feel safer than anything else in the world. He liked being held by Moomintroll.

He had never considered himself a person who needed to be wanted until Moomin had satiated that need. Moomin, who encircled him in his arms without keeping him trapped, who made an incredible pillow and friend, who was nothing but warmth and safety. If Snufkin were to consider a place home, it would be right here, between Moomin’s paws. Glad Moomin couldn’t see how erratically his tail flipped behind him, Snufkin sighed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as Moomin pulled back, looking at Snufkin’s face. His ocean blue eyes sparkled with orange, the campfire light dancing happily, also glad to just be close enough to touch him. _What a phenomenal Moomintroll._

“Um, Snufkin?” Moomin’s ears flicked, a look of distress wrinkling his face. Oh. Oh no. Snufkin had ruined it. He had ruined everything. Moomin was going to tell him he knew, and that it was embarrassing to have Snufkin love him. It was all over--his life, his love- “Your blanket is on fire.”

“What?” Turning quickly, Snufkin realized that the burning heat he had been feeling wasn’t just nerves. “Oh! By my tail!” Grabbing the pitcher of coffee, he overturned it quickly, dousing the flames.

“By your tail, indeed.” Moomin picked up the candle stub. “You must have knocked it over.” There was a laugh in Moomin’s voice, but all Snufkin could feel was mortification. “You didn’t get burned, did you?”

“No, fortunately.” Snufkin stood up, rather wishing he had as the coffee rapidly soaked through his clothes. “Though I suppose I ought to change.”

Giggling, Moomin hid his smile behind his paw. Taking the other two candles, he extinguished them. “I’d better let you get into your pajamas then. Thanks for inviting me. This was fun!”

Snufkin’s heart cinched. “Oh. Yes. Of course. I’m sorry I almost set us on fire.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Taking Snufkin’s face between his paws, Moomin bumped their snouts together.

“Tomorrow. Yes.” Waving at the retreating Moomintroll, Snufkin held his breath, certain that any sound he made would be adequately pathetic. Once out of sight, he let his shoulders drop, climbing back into his tent. Shaking the flower petals off his bedroll, he pushed the borrowed blankets aside. Stripping off his now-cold clothes, he shoved them into a heap, mentally kicking himself as he changed, curling up and staring at the canvas wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yall for your patience with me and weird updates. I love all yall so much.
> 
> Cheers


	30. In Which Oyster Hunting Turns Out to be More Difficult than Initially Imagined

“This is bullshit!” Little My grumbled, tossing another oyster aside.

“Hey!” Sniff scrambled, picking it up. “Don’t waste food!”

“All morning catching stupid oysters, and what do we have to show for it?” Exasperated, Little My gestured towards the large, smelly pile before them. “Absolutely nothing!”

“I suppose pearls are more rare than we thought.” Cracking open a shell, Sniff poked at the meat inside it. “Nothing in this one.”

“Of course there’s nothing! Why would there be? What a waste of time.” Huffing angrily, Little My picked up another oyster.

“Why do you need treasure, anyway? You’ve never been interested before.”

“That’s because I’ve never had incentive before!” Little My tossed the shell aside.

“And what’s the incentive, then?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.” Little My cracked another open a bit harder than was strictly necessary.

“And why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Did someone offer to pay you for treasure?”

“Of course not, don’t be stupid.”

“Hey!” Sniff tossed a shell aside. “I don’t have to be helping, you know.”

“At this rate, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” Grumpy and more than a bit agitated, Little My fumed down at her empty shell.

“So you don’t want my help anymore?”

“No. I can fail all on my own, thank you very much.”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind if I keep THIS?” Smug, Sniff held up a shell.

“Why would I?” Cross, Little My glowered.

“Oh, right.” Quickly, Sniff lifted the oyster to reveal the single pearl beneath. “If I kept THIS!”

“Sniff, you did it! You found one!” Little My jumped to her feet, overjoyed as she reached for the shell. Just as fast, he pulled it back.

“Uh uh, you said you didn’t want my help.” Not really mad so much as wanting to irritate her, Sniff shook his head.

“You know I wasn’t serious! Please, can I have it?” Little My reached again.

“Not until you tell me what it’s for!”

Groaning, she let her shoulders drop. “It doesn’t matter!”

“It matters to me! So, what’s with the treasure hunt?”

“It’s… important.”

“Why? What makes it important?”

“Nevermind,” in a huff, she sat down again, cracking another oyster open. “I’ll find one of my own. In fact, I’ll find a whole bucket of my own!”

“I’m sure you will.” Sniff rolled the pearl between his fingers. “But you won’t get this one. What a shame, too. It’s such a nice pink color.”

Little My glowered. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because,” Sniff rolled onto his back, inspecting his pearl, “you have the best secrets out of anybody.”

That was true, she had to give him that. “It’s nothing exciting,” Little My muttered, opening another one.

“Then what’s the harm in telling me? Is it dangerous?”

She thought back to every instance of cowardice Sniff had ever displayed. “Yes. Very dangerous. There’s a large carnivorous bird that is looking for pearls and it’ll eat anyone who has one.”

Sniff froze, narrowing his eyes. “That can’t be true.”

“It is.” She nodded solemnly.

“Then why would you want them?”

“To give to my enemies.”

Sniff appeared to think it over for a minute, finally shaking his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Your loss,” Little My shrugged. “Don’t expect me to save you when the bird comes.”

“Okay.” Sniff rolled onto his stomach. “Don’t expect me to share my pearl.”

“ _Please_ , can I have it?” Dropping another empty oyster, Little My groaned.

“Sure. You just have to tell me why you want it. AND-“ he held a finger up as she opened her mouth. “It has to be the truth.”

“Fine.” Sighing heavily, Little My rested her face in her paws a moment before realizing they stunk like fish. Sighing, she tossed a shell aside. “So there’s this girl-“

“Nope.” Sniff shook his head, dropping the pearl into her outstretched paw. “Nope. Gross. I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Are you sure? Because-”

“Some things are best kept to one’s self.” Sniff opened another shell.


	31. In Which Snufkin Still Needs Help

“How did it go?”

“Terribly!” Handing the folded blankets back to Mymble, Snufkin couldn’t hide the bite from his tone.

“I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“I almost set him on fire!”

“Oh.” Mymble’s eyes widened. “That’s… not good.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Groaning, Snufkin tugged his hat further down. “I took your advice and all it got me was a lifetime of embarrassment!”

“It’s a bad craftsman who blames his tools.”

“Your tools are useless!”

“Not entirely, last I checked.” Coming up behind her wife, Too-Ticky peered out at Snufkin. “Did you talk with Moomintroll?”

“No, he was too busy setting him on fire.”

“I didn’t actually set him on fire!” Snufkin snapped. “I just got very close to it.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that. Generally speaking, people don’t take kindly to being set ablaze.” Too-Ticky shook her head slowly.

“It wasn’t on purpose! I knocked the candle and- The point is, I was right and this is hopeless!”

“Not hopeless!” Laying a hand on Snufkin’s shoulder, Mymble tried to cheer him up. “I’m sorry it went so poorly. Listen, I’ll help. We’ll get another evening set up, and I’ll-“

“Oh, no.” Snufkin shook his head. “Last time I took your advice, I nearly killed myself!”

“This will be different! I promise.” Extending her pinky, Mymble looked at him with apologetic eyes. Sighing heavily, Snufkin grumbled, linking his pinky with hers. What choice did he have?

“Fine.”

“You be careful, Dear.” Too-Ticky clicked her tongue. “Don’t get carried away.”

“I won’t,” Mymble laughed, obviously already plotting. “All we have to do is figure out what exactly Moomin likes.”

“Snufkin, for starters.”

“Other than him.” Mymble nodded. “What is his favorite food?”

Snufkin drew a blank. That seemed like the sort of thing he ought to know. “Moominmamma’s pancakes?”

“Okay. So what’s his second favorite food that you can cook?”

“I can’t.”

“Cook?”

“Only if he likes things burnt, apparently.”

“So maybe not cooking.” Mymble hummed, thinking hard. “What do you usually do when you two are together?”

“Dig for bugs.”

“Anything else?”

“Sometimes I fish.”

“Okay, but what’s something you can do _together_?”

Snufkin thought of a few activities they could do together, none of which he wished to mention to his sister. “Adventure.”

Mymble groaned, burying her face in her hands. Too-Ticky patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“Snufkin,” turning her attention to him, Too-Ticky thought through her words. “Is there anything you’re particularly good at?”

“Wood boats. I can carve them pretty quick.” Snufkin thought hard. “I can always find north, no matter where I am.”

“Okay. So we’ll definitely do outdoors.” Too-Ticky nodded. “How much do you know about stars, lad?”

“A decent amount. I can pick out the important ones.”

“Oh!” Mymble clasped her hands together, smiling over her shoulder. “Darling, you’re a genius! A moonlit picnic!” Excited, she turned back to Snufkin. “You can point out the stars you know! Moomin will be so impressed, and it will be so romantic!”

Snufkin thought about it, hesitant. It would at least give him a script to follow. “No candles?”

“No candles.” Mymble shook her head vehemently. “I’ll even make you up some hot chocolate to bring with you, so you don’t have to worry about burning anything.”

Needing a voice of reason, Snufkin looked at Too-Ticky, who simply smiled, nodding once.

“If you insist.” Knowing when he was defeated, Snufkin sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes. This has become my number one fic, stats-wise. I haven't had a long fic-writer existence comparatively, but all the same, it's kind of utterly amazing, watching a story I thought maybe two people would read climb up my ranks. So thanks for all of your views, visits, and comments, to both friends and fiends alike. It's definitely been a whole lot of fun thus far, and I cannot wait for all the fun I have in store for yall.  
> Also- I've had people ask me if they can make art based off of this fic, and the answer is always a resounding YES. With a caveat of PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE link it to me so I can melt into a little puddle of tears and crytype at you. You can comment here or find me at OurLittleSecretMoomin on tumblr, where I've already shared some cool arts and stuff!  
> Until then, enjoy some more chaos siblings, and 
> 
> Fuckin cheers, bros


	32. In Which Little My is A Romance Guru

Miserable, Little My stared at her single pearl on a string. It wasn’t the _worst_ thing she’d ever seen… Sighing, she rested her chin in her paws. Oh, who was she kidding? It was properly terrible. There was no way Snorkmaiden would ever want such an ugly little thing. Shoving the necklace (if you could even call it that) into her pocket, Little My hopped up the stairs to Moomin’s room. A quick peek told her that Moomin was out, no doubt making out with her brother. She took a second to retch.

Hopping onto his bed, she made her way over to his bedside table to the stack of books. Perfect. She’d never read romance novels before, but the red one looked promising. The front cover was embossed with an image of a knight kneeling before a girl who looked like a princess, or a very fancy lady at the least. Probably a princess. Hefting the book beneath her arm, Little My carried it back downstairs to commence her research.

 

It wasn’t long before she remembered _why_ she didn’t read romance novels. Everything happened so slowly; it was unbearable! Thumbing through the pages, Little My skipped to the middle, letting the book fall open on the table. There, on the left hand side was a full-page illustration of a bandit holding a man she presumed to be the knight at sword-point, a chest of treasure at his feet. _Now THAT’S a proper treasure,_ she thought, looking at all the gold coins spilling onto the ground. If she found one of those, she’d be in business for sure. Too bad there were no bandits anywhere nearby. Unless…

Drawing up a hazy plot in her head, Little My jumped, shutting the book excitedly. “Brilliant!”

“Hello to you too, Little My.” Coming in the front door, Moomin pulled the door shut behind him, a dreamy, faraway stare in his eyes. Disgusting. Not wanting to be caught filching his things, she shoved Moomin’s book onto the chair beside her.

 

“What has you so happy?”

“Mind your own business.” Not letting Little My interrupt his good mood, Moomin continued humming the song he had invented. It was nowhere near as good as any of Snufkin’s, but it burbled out of him, his head light with excitement.

“Don’t tell me you’ve finally gone properly mad.” Paws on her hips, Little My scoffed.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I happen to have a date tonight.” Triumphant, Moomin gloated.

Nonplussed, Little My glanced over him. “And you’re going like that?”

“Like what?” Moomin examined himself. He looked the same as he always did; white and fluffy and round. He hadn’t a stain, had he?

“Like that,” Little My gestured up and down. “You haven’t put any effort in.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Moomin frowned. No matter how badly he didn’t want to let her upset him, she always found a way of managing it. “This is how I look!”

“Exactly.” Rolling her eyes as if it was obvious, My tutted. “If you’re going to date my brother, the least you can do is _try_ to be presentable.”

“I’m more than presentable! Besides, what would you know about dates?” Deciding not to let her make him cross, Moomin turned away, but still, her words nagged at him. Slowly, he glanced backwards over his shoulder. “What are you suggesting?”

“If you _really_ want to wow someone, you ought to put some thought into it.”

“What sort of thought?”

“You should look different. More fancy.”

“Fancy?”

“Put an outfit together. It lets him know you care.”

“What sort of outfit?” Moomin looked down at his paws.

Humming, Little My thought hard, her paw pressed to her mouth. “Maybe a bowtie?”

“A bowtie?” Moomin smoothed the fur at his chest. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh yes. And if you can do something with this,” hopping down from her perch upon the table, Little My gestured towards Moomin’s head, “that would really seal the deal.”

“Do what?” Oh dear. Moomin hadn’t realized there were so many things that went into dates.

“Slick it down. Get it all shiny and not-going-everywhere.”

“Do you think so?” Nervous, Moomin twisted his fur between his fingers.

Little My nodded sagely. “Absolutely certain.”

Experiencing a moment of clarity, Moomin narrowed his eyes. “Are you messing with me?”

Clicking her tongue, Little My sighed. “Why would I sabotage _this?_ It keeps the two of you busy and out of my way.”

“Oh, yes?” Still suspicious, Moomin regarded her cautiously. “And what exactly do you need us out of the way _for_?”

“So I can steal your ex-girlfriend. Now come on.” Not giving him time for questions, Little My pushed him towards the stairs. “We have a LOT to accomplish.”


	33. In Which Snufkin Talks About Stars

Moomin had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Whatever it was Little My had slicked through his fur, it made it very stiff, albeit shiny. She promised he looked good, but he wasn’t so sure. Nervously, Moomin approached the top of the hill, tugging at the bowtie around his throat.

Little My had made him late with all her fussing, so by the time he made it up to the crest, Snufkin was already there. He hasn’t seen Moomin yet, chewing on the end of his pipe as he blew small puffs of smoke out into the night sky. How lovely.

“Snufkin!”

“Moomin!” Jumping as if caught at something, Snufkin stood up, tipping his hat. Moomin giggled, jogging the rest of the way. Cordial, the pair nodded at one another, pausing for a moment before sitting silently on the blanket Snufkin had set out.

“You look… nice.” Snufkin dumped out the ashes from his pipe on the ground beside him.

“As do you.”

“Thank you. Hot chocolate?”

“Much appreciated.” Moomin took the mug, happy to have something to occupy his paws. Unscrewing the thermos, Snufkin poured out two cups.

 

Surreptitiously, Snufkin glanced at the notecard Mymble had written out for him. She’d filled it up with things for him to say when the silence got too heavy, and he was glad, because right now his nerves were failing him.

“You look really nice. The bowtie is lovely.”

“Do you think so?” Moomin tugged at it. “It doesn’t look silly?”

It definitely looked silly, but he wasn’t about to say so. “Not at all.”

“Okay, good.” Quiet again, Moomin and Snufkin drank from their cups in silence. “No candles this time?”

“I figured it was best if I… didn’t.”

“That was probably a good idea.”

“Sorry again for almost setting us on fire.”

“No need to apologize.”

Glancing down, Snufkin checked his notecard. “How was your day?”

“It was good.”

“That’s very good.” Nodding slowly, Snufkin nearly screamed at how uncomfortable this was. He’d give Mymble a piece of his mind when he saw her next.

“Did you… How was your day?”

“My day was fine. Thank you for asking.” Maybe there was still time to get this back on track. As Moomin looked away, he quickly skimmed the list of conversation topics. “Have you seen the new purple flowers by the river?” _What? What sort of conversation was that? Mymble was going to PAY for this._

“I have,” Moomin’s eyes sparkled. “I actually thought of bringing you some, but I didn’t know if you’d want them already picked. They’d look great on your hat.”

“You think?” Taking his hat off, Snufkin examined it.

“Oh yes. If you got a wreath of them, it would look amazing.”

“You’re right.” _Why didn’t he think of that? He should have gotten more dressed up for this. Moomin had gone through all the effort of wearing a bowtie._

“I can make you one tomorrow, if you’d like?”

“That would be nice.” Smiling, Snufkin looked away again, checking his card.

“Of course.”

“So,” turning towards Moomin, Snufkin leaned back on an arm casually. “North.”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard of it?”

“I…” Moomin nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“I can find it.” Pointing up at the sky, Snufkin put on his best approximation of a suave tone.

“I’d assumed so, with how often you travel.”

“Oh.” Snufkin was stumped. Mymble hadn’t planned on Moomin not being impressed by his pioneering skills. Sticking to the failing plan, he pointed to his left. “It’s that way.”

“Is it?” Moomin tried and failed to sound interested. Becoming increasingly distraught, Snufkin forced the conversation on.

“You can tell because of the stars.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. Which stars do you use?” Looking up, Moomin’s eyes dragged over the large expanse of sky. “And how do you find them? There are so many.”

Snufkin stared at Moomin, his white fur blue in the evening light. He was… It was… There weren’t words for how he felt.

Snufkin was the sort of person who saw a great many things. He’d been places even the inhabitants didn’t know the names of, had met the oddest creatures and climbed the strangest mountains. He’d eaten just about anything that one could plausibly eat and experienced at least half of the things there are to be experienced. But the sight of Moomin smiling at him under starlight? That he was unprepared for. Glancing down at his notecard, he hesitated before turning it over, tucking it away.

“Well,” leaning in, he rested his head against Moomin’s shoulder, pointing upwards, “You see that particularly bright one?”

“Which one?” Moomin narrowed his eyes.

“This one.” Pushing their cheeks together, he straightened his arm.

“The one right above that bit of three?”

“Yes! Exactly. You see how it sort of falls into that line of stars there? Like you could take a ruler and connect them?”

“Yes?”

“That’s north. You follow it from tip to tail, and that’s the way I head to come back every Spring.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose that must be my new favorite star, then.”

“You had a favorite star before?”

“No, but only because I didn’t realize what an important job it did. Thank you, star!” Cupping his paws around his mouth, Moomin called out to the sky. Snufkin laughed, covering his mouth with his paw.

 

If he could, Moomin would spend the rest of his life with Snufkin’s head against his shoulder. He liked the way it felt, to be so close, tails zipping together and twisting around like they were both made to be half to this whole. Closing his eyes, he leaned further into the touch. “What other stars can you find?”

“Well,” Snufkin began pointing and explaining again, excitement in his voice. Keeping his eyes closed, Moomin listened to the way his tone rose and fell, soaking in the shivering intimacy that came with his whispered voice. Even if it was nothing sneaky, it was always lovely to hear Snufkin whisper, to listen to the way his voice changed to become all breath. Moomin could hear the click of his tongue against his teeth, the slight touch of his lips as he took pauses, thinking. Nodding just to let Snufkin know he was listening, Moomin covered his paw with his own, heart full of bliss.

“Hey, Moomin?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why is your fur crunchy?”

Sitting up, Moomin blushed. “Oh. Little My helped me get ready. She said it would keep my fur in place.”

“It certainly does.” Snufkin tried to ruffle it. It not to move at all. “That’s… very effective. Was the bowtie her idea too?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

“It isn’t.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, look.” Sheepishly, Moomin untied it, the stiff fur on his neck not moving from the strange way it had puffed up and around the tie. Snufkin stared for a moment, meeting Moomin’s eyes silently before bursting out in laughter.

“Oh no!” Shoulders shaking, Snufkin covered his mouth with his paws. “Oh, no!”

“It’s so bad!” Laughing, Moomin tried to push the fur down, making Snufkin laugh even harder as it popped right back up.

“Oh, Moomin,” Snufkin wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Oh, that’s awful!”

“Tell me about it! I can barely move!”

“Come along,” standing up, Snufkin held his paws out for Moomin to take. “Change of plans. We’re going swimming.”

“Thank you.” Relieved, Moomin let himself be pulled to his feet.

“Grab the chocolate. I’ll take the blanket.” Still chuckling, Snufkin folded the blanket over his arm.

 

 

Snufkin set the blanket down at the edge of the pond, heart still racing as he took off his hat and boots. His plan thoroughly ruined, he resigned himself to a regular night of fun. He’d just have to come up with a different plan, a better one. One that preferably did not involve his sisters, especially after they had managed to so thoroughly ruin this evening.

Undoing the buttons at the nape of his neck, Snufkin pulled his tunic and scarf over his head, peeling off his socks. Not having to bother with matters as silly as undressing, Moomin was already dipping his toes into the water, humming thoughtfully as he waded out to his knees.

“It’s not too cold.”

“Are you sure?” Folding his clothes into a pile, Snufkin removed the notecard from his pants pocket, placing it inside his hat before walking to the water’s edge. “I don’t have quite so much fur as you.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Well, how cold is it?”

“Come in and find out.” Walking back to shore, Moomin extended his paws. Snufkin had to take a minute to appreciate the view, how gorgeous his friend was with the moonlight reflecting up off the water. Smiling he reached out to Moomin.

 

Grabbing Snufkin by the waist, Moomin tossed him into the water. Sputtering, Snufkin re-surfaced, wiping water droplets from his face. “Moomin!”

“What?” Shrugging innocently, Moomin swam out to him.

“You are not funny, Moomintroll!”

Moomin laughed as Snufkin splashed him, chuckling. Going underwater, he shook his fur out, trying to get rid of the stiffness. Paddling over to him, Snufkin began to scrub at his neck, combing his fingers though the fur to help. Closing his eyes, Moomin held Snufkin beneath his knees, pulling him close until he was balanced against him. Intent upon his work, Snufkin splashed water over Moomin’s head, rubbing at his ears and cheeks until he was once again soft all over.

“There! All done and handsome as ever.” Admiring his work Snufkin leaned back proudly.

“Thank you very much.” Lacing his paws together, Moomin wrapped his arms beneath Snufkin, pressing him to his chest so that his open thighs fit snugly against Moomin’s waist. Even in the scant light, he could see Snufkin blush, a small squeak escaping him. Neither of them spoke for a moment, Snufkin silently staring at him.

“Hey, Moomin?” Snufkin brushed his paws over Moomin’s face, slowly, carefully.

“Yes?”

“You’re…” Snufkin continued to pet along his cheek, “You’re quite beautiful.”

“Oh,” Moomin flushed. Imagine, someone as handsome as Snufkin calling him beautiful! He really was the luckiest creature in the world.

“Also, there’s something I think you ought to know.”

Oh no. By the tone of his voice, Moomin could tell it was nothing good. Was Snufkin leaving early this year? “What is it?”

“I…” Snufkin hesitated, fiddling with the fur on Moomin’s chest. “Do you remember, in the woods after the tavern?”

“Yes?”

“When I said all the things I did?”

“Yes.”

“I never properly thanked you for being so kind about it.”

“Oh.” Moomin blinked. “Of course. You deserve kind.”

“Thank you. But, you really are. Kind, that is. And lovely. And wonderful. And I hope you can take this kindly too.”

“Whatever’s on your mind, you can tell me.” Putting on a brave face, Moomin smiled, but he’d be a liar to say his stomach wasn’t busy twisting itself into loops.

“That’s the problem, really. I… I think about you a lot.”

“I think about you a lot too.”

“Yes, but, I think about you even more than all that. I think about you constantly. I think about you, and it hurts inside.”

“Hurts?” Moomin’s ears went back in alarm.

“In a good way! In a great way. It hurts like… It hurts because I’m not used to wanting things, I suppose?” Snufkin shrugged, not looking up from his own paws. “I don’t need a lot of things. But I need you. And it’s not that I want to own you, but I want you, but also I _want_ you, if that makes any sense?”

“I… think so?”

“Basically, it’s really embarrassing, but all I can do lately is think about you, and not as a friend.” Snufkin’s voice shook, his paws trembling on Moomin’s shoulders. “As more than a friend. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird, but I can’t not tell you. You’re very special to me, and you deserve to know that and have the choice to leave, because the fact of the matter is that I like you enough to love you and that’s just the way it is.”

Out of breath, Snufkin blushed bright red, his eyes shining as if he might begin to cry again. Confused, Moomin pet the side of his face, heart breaking as Snufkin closed his eyes, leaning into his palm.

“Hey, Snuf, it’s okay. Are you… Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on me?”

“I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t make things weird.” Groaning, Snufkin buried his face in his paws.

“Well, it’s a little weird, but only because I thought we were dating?”

“You what?” Wiping his nose on the back of his paw, Snufkin looked at Moomin in confusion.

“I thought we were dating. Are we not? You called me your boyfriend.”

Eyes wide, Snufkin went tense. “When?”

“In the field. You said something about kissing me the way Mymble kisses her boyfriends, and- Oh. Wait.” Moomin’s ears went flat again. “Oh. I see the mistake I made.”

“You thought we were dating?”

“Oh no.” If he wasn’t still holding Snufkin, Moomin would try to drown himself.

“You’ve been dating me?”

“I’m sorry! I just assumed! It made sense in my head. You don’t like grand gestures, so I thought you’d just slipped it in instead of making a big fuss!”

“You’ve been dating me this entire time?” Paws to his face, Snufkin continued staring at him in utter amazement.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t- Wait. So, you do like me, right? You’re saying you _want_ to date me?”

“I just confessed my love to my already boyfriend?”

“So I am your boyfriend?”

“Are you my boyfriend?”

“Wait, you _love_ me?” Moomin’s eyes went wide. “I thought you just had a crush on me!”

“Oh no, this is terrible!” Snufkin covered his face with his paws.

“No! Listen!” Still holding Snufkin with one arm, Moomin let them sink into the water up to his chest, pulling a paw away from Snufkin’s face. “I love you too!”

“You do?”

“Yes! I do! I love you!” Laughing, Moomin held on tight as Snufkin cupped his cheeks between his paws, kissing him with his entire face.

“You love me?”

“I love you!” Nuzzling him with his snout, Moomin squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you so _much_!” Spinning in a circle, Moomin held on as Snufkin wrapped his arms around his shoulders, kissing his face. Laughing, Snufkin buried his nose into Moomin’s forehead, kissing him with his lips, his snout, his paws. Love-struck and dizzy with adoration, Moomin couldn’t stop giggling, too busy trying to catch every part of this moment.

“Tell me again!”

“I love you!” Kissing Snufkin’s shoulder, Moomin held him tightly. “I love you, Snufkin, I love you!”

 

Leaning back, Snufkin let Moomin support his weight, his paws still interlocked beneath him. “You love me?” Smiling a breathless smile, he ran his paws over Moomin’s face.

“I love you! You love me?”

“Very much so.” Bringing their snouts together, he sighed. “I love you very much, Moomintroll.”

“I love you! I get to be your boyfriend?”

“You can be my anything. My everything.” Tilting Moomin’s face up, Snufkin kissed him with his lips, not able to resist the urge any longer. As Moomin kissed him back, he let his body finally relax, all of the tension aching in his belly dissolving into a blissful static, humming in the background of this perfection.

His Moomintroll.

Moomintroll’s Snufkin.

_Moomintroll’s._

_His._

Carding his fingers into his fur, Snufkin kissed him as deep as he could.

His. Totally and undeniably his.

Purring, Snufkin positively melted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET


	34. In Which Snufkin Talks About Stars Some More

Wrapping the blanket around Moomin, Snufkin ruffled him, trying to dry his fur.

“I would have brought towels if I’d known.”

“This works well enough.” Moomin shook his fur out, fluffing it up. “Your turn. Come here.”

“I don’t have as much fur,” Snufkin protested, not wanting to take up any unnecessary towel drying. But Moomin was already wrapping him up, rubbing his head with the blanket. Closing his eyes, Snufkin giggled, letting Moomin dry off his face.

“There we go. Nice and soft again.” Moomin kissed the top of Snufkin’s head. Purring, Snufkin decided to let himself be held just a bit longer than usual. It was worth it if it was Moomintroll doing the holding. Still wrapped in the blanket, Snufkin closed his eyes, burrowing his head beneath Moomin’s chin. No, he didn’t mind this at all.

Giggling, Moomin rubbed his paws along Snufkin’s arms. “Are you cold?”

“No. Are you? You’re the one with damp fur.”

“It dries quickly enough.”

“I don’t want you getting sick.”

“You’re the one wearing wet clothes.”

“Oh,” Snufkin looked down, having forgotten. “So I am.”

“Here, I’ll help you.” Leaning down, Moomin reached for Snufkin’s tunic. Moomintroll was so kind. So attentive. So- “What’s this?” Picking up the small pink card from where it was fallen, Moomin began to read it to himself.

“No, don’t!” Panicking, Snufkin remembered all too late that he had left his cheat sheet on his hat.

Confused, Moomin looked back up at him. “What _is_ this?”

Nervous and more than a bit embarrassed, Snufkin began to wring his tail between his paws. “I, uh. I might have also had some help for tonight.”

“Did… Is this a to-do list?”

“More like guidelines. Mymble wrote it out for me.”

“ _Ask him about his day. Make sure he knows you are listening. Tell him he looks handsome._ ” Moomin quirked an eyebrow. “ _Stars_?”

“My conversation topic. Stars. I kept getting too nervous to talk every time we hung out, so I needed a reminder of what sorts of things to say.” Flushed, Snufkin stared at the pond, considering whether it was too late to drown himself. With a snort, Moomin began to laugh, pulling Snufkin towards him by the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

“Were you really that nervous?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Snufkin! That’s really sweet, if a bit silly.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Snufkin groaned.

“Well, it worked. Considered me wooed.”

“Pardon?”

Moomin pointed to the card’s title. “ _Wooing Moomintroll; Plan B._ Can I ask what plan A was?”

Snufkin groaned again. “Candlelight and flower petals.”

Moomin looked at him, startled, before laughing again. “Oh no! So, when you almost set yourself on fire-”

“I know, I know!” Snufkin covered his face with his paws.

“You forgot the flower petals.”

“I didn’t, actually. They were,” Snufkin sighed, rubbing his eyes, feeling thoroughly defeated. “They were strewn about my tent. I borrowed some blankets to make it extra nice.”

Gasping, Moomin covered his mouth with his paws. “Really?”

“It was Mymble’s idea. But then I almost set us on fire, and when I poured the coffee over the flames-“

“I left!” Moomin groaned. “I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I was covered in coffee and smelled like burnt fur.”

Laughing, Moomin hugged Snufkin again, kissing his nose. “I’m so sorry! But here, it’s not too late.”

“Too late for what?”

Taking the blanket off Snufkin’s shoulders, Moomin shook it out onto the ground, gesturing before him. “After you.”

Smiling, Snufkin knelt onto the blanket, taking Moomin’s paws in his own as he kissed him.

Hooking his fingers into Snufkin’s trousers, Moomin pulled them down. Snufkin shivered as the night air hit his wet skin, the cold cloth still clinging to his legs. Moomin ran his paws over him, trying to help warm him up.

“Chilly?”

“A little.”

“Here, I have an idea.”

“Another idea?” Snufkin smiled, purring as Moomin kissed his shoulder.

“I’m just full of them, it seems.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

Lying back, Moomin tugged at Snufkin’s thigh, behind the knee. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

Knowing exactly where this was going, Snufkin let himself be coaxed on top of Moomintroll, his thighs slotting perfectly above his shoulders. Lightly, Moomin drew his paws up Snukin’s legs to his hips, and then smoothly but firmly, pressed him down.

Snufkin gasped, hips pushing forward into the warm softness of Moomin’s tongue. Whining, he clenched a fistful of blanket in one paw, his other arm wrapped around Moomin’s snout.

“Oh, lord!”

Hooking his paws around Snufkin’s legs, Moomin held onto him, pushing at him with his tongue. Snufkin keened, toes curing as he felt his entire body brace around this moment, this place, this instant. Humming softly, Moomin kept his steady pace, more petting him than anything. He tried to stop his legs from tightening around Moomin’s face, but it was a battle he was quickly loosing.

“M- Moo- Ah! Moomin!” Panting, Snufkin squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as he felt his friend- no, his boyfriend- ’s tongue move inside him. “Ah! You- Don’t stop!”

Tightening his grip, Moomin flattened his tongue, pulling another whine from deep within Snufkin’s body.

“Oh! Like that!” Patting the top of Moomin’s snout, he arched his back. “Like that! Right there!”

Wonderful person that he was, Moomin stayed on that spot, not letting up until Snufkin was crying out, shaking and whimpering. “Moomin!” Squeezing his name out between his teeth, Snufkin bent over Moomin’s snout, using it to keep himself somewhat upright. “Right there! Right there! Right-“ He gasped loudly, nearly shouting as he finished, body wracked with the overwhelming sensation.

Easily rolling Snufkin onto his back, Moomin kissed his upper legs, his hips.

“Are you okay?”

Breathless, Snufkin nodded, balling the blanket into his paws once more. “Oh yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Snufkin patted Moomin’s snout, resting atop his belly. “So much.”

Smiling, Moomin continued to kiss him, pressing his snout to his inner arms, palms, abdomen. “I like it when you get chatty.”

“Chatty?”

“When you talk to me. I like hearing you.”

“Oh.” Snufkin blinked up at the sky. It wasn’t often that people actually enjoyed his thoughts. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Resting his snout between Snufkin’s legs again, Moomin sighed happily. “Tell me more about the stars.”

 

“Oh. Well,” Moomin could feel Snufkin fidget as he kissed his upper thighs. “There’s all different types. But there’s two good ways to find them,” Snufkin’s words were cut off with a gasp as Moomin ran his tongue along him again. “Oh!” Voice shaking, Snufkin pulled his knees tight against Moomin’s shoulders.

“Please, keep talking.”

Nodding, Snufkin continued. “Two ways to tell them apart. No, two ways to find them. There’s- There’s constellations and- Ah!” Gasping, Snufkin bucked up to Moomin’s mouth. Lacing his paws beneath Snufkin’s legs, Moomin held him tight. “Ah! Ah! Aster- Aster-isms!”

Moomin could feel Snufkin’s feet point, braced against his back. “Go on.” Returning to the same spot he had worked so well before, Moomin flicked his tongue softly.

“I- Ah! Moomin!” Whining, Snufkin pressed up against his paws, his own arms on the ground above him, shaking as he held the blanket. Unrelenting, Moomin continued.

It was funny, how different is was when Snufkin was off his heat. Not necessarily better or worse, just… different. The smell was less heady, earthier, reminding him more of sea caves than forest gardens. It was also less sweet, more… something else. Not bitter. There wasn’t quite a word for it. Gasping, Snufkin continued to push up against Moomin’s paws, trying to create more friction.

“Keep going.”

“Okay. Okay. Um, Ursa minor. Ursa major. Canis major. Canis minor. Canis major.” Whimpering, Snufkin arched his back, knees shaking. “I already- Vel- Vel- VelAh!” Tensing his thighs, he grit his teeth, face pinched up in concentration, and Moomin’s heart leapt. His face and chest were tinged red in a way that might be misconstrued as sunburn if it wasn’t for the needy whimpers he was giving him, paws coming down to tug at the fur by Moomin’s ears. “Ah! Del-phin-us!”

Moomin took a moment to be impressed. Snufkin sure knew a whole lot of things about stars. He was very clever. Very clever and very handsome. Closing his eyes, Moomin enjoyed the chitter of his heart as he nestled further down, moaning.

Crying out, Snufkin lifted his knees high, gasping as he tensed around Moomin, paws firmly planted on his face. “I- Ah! Moomin!” Whining, he let his fingers curl into Moomin’s fur. Moomin pushed his tongue as far as he could, still trying to think of the right word. “Ah! I’m so close!” Snufkin’s heels bumped against his spine. "Ar- Arctur- Arcturus!” With a whimper, he began to pant, wriggling beneath him, trying to create more contact. “Regulus! Moomin, please! I’m so close! I’m so-“ Moomin hummed, sliding his tongue up, focusing his attention. “I- Ah! Ah! Moomintroll! I- I can’t- I- SpicaAH! Moomin!” Calling out, Snufkin gasped loudly before finally, with a shuddering whine, he relaxed, purring.

“You sure know a lot about stars.” Climbing above him, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s chest and shoulders. Sighing, Snufkin nuzzled his snout with his own.

“You love me?”

“I love you.” Moomin kissed the side of his face, the dark fur along his brow.

“I’m not too much?”

“Never too much.”

“Never is a strong word.”

“If it ever is, I promise I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” Sighing happily, Snufkin wrapped his arms around Moomin’s shoulders. Closing his eyes, Moomin breathed in the smell of his hair. Clean air. Campfire. And- Yes, there it was. Just the slightest bit of honeysuckle.

“Hey, Moomin?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

Not knowing what to say that wouldn’t sound foolish in the light of such perfection, Moomin nuzzled closer, gasping when Snufkin pushed up against him.

“I didn’t tire you out, did I?”

“Of course not.” Lifting his knees again, Snufkin groaned as Moomin rubbed against him. “But if you really want, I’m not in heat. I could…”

“Another time.” Moomin moaned.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise. Right now I just… I want to be with you.”

Relaxing his grip, Snufkin let Moomin sit upwards, smiling at him. “I want that too.”

After giving himself a few strokes just for good measure (really, how would he possibly need any extra help after _that_?) Moomin pulled Snufkin by the hips, sliding him up into his open lap. Snufkin’s breath hiccupped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just grab you.”

“It’s fine.” Flushed, Snufkin’s purr went to a higher pitch. “You can do whatever you want.” Laughing, Moomin kissed Snufkin’s knees. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are, Snuf. I know.”

Gently, unsure how easy he would take him when he wasn’t in heat, Moomin pushed into his boyfriend. Gasping, Snufkin arched his back, whining softly.

“Is that okay?”

Snufkin nodded emphatically, his purr corroborating the sentiment.

Leaning forward, Moomin moaned, thrusting the rest of the way inside him.

Groaning, Snufkin shivered. The feeling wasn’t entirely different from before, just enough so that he noticed it. For one, even after a thorough warm-up, there was a whole lot less slick, which meant a whole lot more friction in the best way possible. Grasping Moomin’s paws, Snufkin held onto him, his face pinched up as he bit down on his lip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Opening his eyes, Snufkin looked at him, a dazed expression on his face as he smiled. “More than okay.”

Leaning down, Moomin nuzzled his snout, kissing him. Snufkin gasped, legs hiking up.

“Oh! Oh, that was-“

“Good?”

“Very good.”

Testing it, Moomin placed his paws on either side of Snufkin’s head, rolling his hips forward. Both of them gasped, a lovely mewling sound coming from Snufkin, which he quickly tried to cover with his paw. Rhythmically, Moomin began to thrust, deep strokes that rocked into Snufkin with the steadiness of the ebbing tide. He wanted to be sure to feel every bit of this, every lovely moment of being allowed to be inside him. Entire body moving in time with Moomin’s strokes, Snufkin groaned, paw still pressed to his face.

“Oh,” Moomin moaned, closing his eyes as a wave of pleasure seized him. “Oh wow. Oh, you feel so good.” Gentle, he pressed his snout to Snufkin’s forehead. “You’re so _good_ , Snuf.”

“Moomin,” teeth still grit, Snufkin purred a sound that edged on a grumble.

“You need me to slow down?”

“No,” gasping, Snufkin shook his head. “Keep going. You- It’s good.”

“Are you close?”

“Not yet.”

“Come here.” Grabbing Snufkin beneath the ribs, Moomin sat up, lifting him so that he was seated in his lap.

Wrapping his arms around his neck, Snufkin gasped into his shoulder, fingers digging into Moomin’s back. “Oh! Oh- Oh yes! Very good!”

Closing his eyes, Moomin lifted Snufkin beneath the legs, thrusting into him in deep strokes. Whimpering, Snufkin continued to gasp quietly in his ear.

Even without the heat fever, he was still so warm. So warm and small and… Snufkin. So Snufkin. Moomin watched the way his tail flipped about behind him, trying not to laugh at the sight. Snufkin wouldn’t be happy to know he was acting so transparently. Although… maybe he wouldn’t mind, like this? He certainly had no shame in the sounds he was making, his lips pressing to Moomin’s neck.

“Ah!” Snufkin gasped, groaning again. “You- You feel so good.”

“Isn’t too much?”

“Never too much. Not with you.” Leaning back, Snufkin kissed Moomin’s snout. Bracing his feet against the ground, he helped to lift himself.

 

There was bliss, and then there was the feeling of Moomintroll inside him. Snufkin moaned as Moomin moved, taking his time to do this right. Always taking his time, his Moomintroll. Always worried Snufkin may not be having a good time, even after leaving him a shaking mess, not once, but _twice_ already.

Closing his eyes, he took in the feeling of Moomin’s paws on his legs, the freshness of the night air and soft texture of the blanket against his feet. All at once the world seemed much too large, much too wonderful for as small a creature as him. Moaning a groan that sounded more like a sob, he pressed his mouth to Moomin’s shoulder.

Moomin loved him. He loved him. No matter how often he repeated the words, they never lost that lily freshness of amazement and adoration. Sitting back again, he placed his paws on Moomin’s shoulders, suddenly very much wanting to see his face.

Tangling his paws in Snufkin’s hair, Moomin groaned as Snufkin continued to move over him. No wonder people called it making love; his body and his heart were finally feeling that exact same braced sensation of almost popping with the sheer magnitude of how much he felt. So much adoration, so much wanting, but also so much Moomin, against him, beside him, inside him- Groaning, Snufkin pressed his lips to the top of Moomin’s snout.

“I- Snuf, I’m so close.”

Snufkin just nodded, certain that anything he attempted to say would be entirely unintelligible.

“Are you almost-?”

“Almost,” Snufkin groaned. As terrible as it was to think this had to end, it was even worse to think they wouldn’t get to. He wanted Moomin happy. He wanted to make him happy, to make him feel good. “Lie back.”

Listening without question, Moomin lay back on the blanket, still holding Snufkin atop him. Snufkin could feel his hair falling into his face, beads of sweat forming between his shoulder blades as he pushed himself up with the balls of his feet. Closing his eyes, he tangled his fingers into the fur on Moomin’s chest, gasping as a light flickered on somewhere deep inside him, quickly becoming a consuming fire.

Pushing himself through it, he whimpered, vaguely aware of the fact that his tail was tangling itself with Moomin’s. He heard Moomin’s breath hitch, his paws tightening on his legs as he continued lifting and dropping him. Dizzy with exertion, Snufkin lifted his knees, letting Moomin sink entirely inside him. He shuddered at the stretch, breath quickly turning into a whine as Moomin finished.

 

Falling against his chest, Snufkin continued to purr, the sound making Moomin ache with the need for sleep. He was… well, exhausted.

“I- You are so wonderful.” Lifting Snufkin up beneath the arms, Moomin placed him down onto the blanket beside him.

“You’re so wonderful.” Just as sleepy, Snufkin allowed himself to be cuddled, evidently too tired for personal space.

“No, listen. You’re just…” Moomin sighed, kissing his shoulder. “You’re so wonderful.”

Scrunching up, Snufkin chuckled, turning back to look at Moomin with a happy sigh. Quietly, they pressed their snouts together, enjoying the utter isolation of adoration and a night sky.

“Hey,” Snufkin interrupted the quiet. “If you don’t mind- I mean, if you want to-”

“Yes?”

“I still have two of Mymble’s blankets.”

“And?”

“They’re very soft. If you wanted to, we could use them. For sleeping.” Snufkin shrugged.

“You don’t think Mymble would mind?”

“I think she owes me, for all the trouble she put me though,” Snufkin muttered.

“Hey! Without her, I’d never know your topics of interest include,” Moomin felt around for the card, picking it up again, “boat carving?”

“She said it showed I was good with my hands.”

“That’s…” Moomin thought it over. “Really gross. But accurate.”

“Yeah, it was weird.”

“Weird but sweet.” Moomin placed the card aside. “As all things should be.”

“Fair enough.” Sitting up Snufkin stretched, dazzlingly gorgeous between the fair light and soft pink glow of his skin. Noticing Moomin staring, he froze.

“You’re so handsome.” Nuzzling his cheek, Moomin sighed. “How did you ever get so handsome?”

Laughing, Snufkin returned the kiss, pressing his lips to the top of Moomin’s snout. “I’m glad at least you think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends and fiends alike!
> 
> I am going on an honest-to-god vacation, so it'll be a few days before the next update! I figure this is a pretty solid pause to leave yall on, so enjoy the gratuitous smut and I'll see yall soon, hopefully well-rested and ready to crack into it. 
> 
> Cheers


	35. In Which Little My Begins an Adventure

If there was one thing Little My prided herself on, it was her ability to get things done. Nearly everyone else seemed to find the very notion of success impossible, but not her. She was relentless. She was victorious. She was… Tired. Very tired.

Dropping one last book onto the floor, she climbed down Pappa’s bookshelf with a huff. Surveying her amassed pile, she began to flip through them.

It was terrible, knowing exactly what you were looking for but being utterly unable to find it. It was here somewhere, she was certain. At one point or another, Pappa had pulled out the old map, probably during a story about his boyhood. The downside being, of course, that Pappa told a lot of stories and owned altogether too many books; it was impossible to keep track. Sighing at another fruitless search, My pushed the book aside, opening the next.

It had been a story about them landing their boat off the coast, and she was fairly certain the book had been red. Or green. Or maybe blue. But definitely one of those colors. Probably. Flipping through more empty pages, she groaned, shoving the book aside. This could take ages. She didn’t have ages; at this rate, she’d be lucky to finish by the time she was old and withered. Stupid map. Climbing back up the shelf, she dropped another few books to the floor, pausing to rest. Maybe she could find it without the map. Let’s see- She remembered there was definitely a cave in the story, a seacave along the coast. He’d said there were large rocks, and a dead tree. Of course, the tree might have washed away entirely by now. Or wait- wasn’t that a different story? She was getting them all confused.

Jumping down, she lifted a book by its spine, shaking it. A few pieces of paper fell out; a party invitation, two empty envelopes and an outdated doctor’s note. Useless. She hefted the book atop a pile of other reds.

What if she couldn’t find it? She tried to imagine herself presenting Snorkmaiden with the sad little necklace she had made. How embarrassing. Snorkmaiden was too nice to laugh at her, but she certainly wouldn’t be wooed. Little My shook another book.

Snorkmaiden was the sort of girl who deserved to be wooed. It was good luck for her that Moomin was too stupid to see it. She deserved someone better, though that might just be her personal bias. But imagine, how great it would be to open a whole chest of treasures for Snorkmaiden to see. She’d hold her hands, spin her around, ask Little My to help her put on the pearl necklaces. And once she was all dressed, My would jokingly pull a ring from the chest, get down on one knee, and Snorkmaiden would jokingly say yes, and they would laugh until they couldn’t breathe, hold onto one another, but when they opened their eyes, finally quieting, they’d both realize neither of them were joking as much as they thought, and she’d bring her hands up to Snorkmaiden’s face, curl her fingers into her fur and-

“Eureka!” Jumping up, Little My grabbed the fallen map. It was a little yellowed, but not so old as to be unusably fragile. Closing the book, she tucked the map beneath her arm, running down the stairs.

 

“Not so fast, dear!” Moominmamma barely stepped out of her way, only just managing to balance the kettle upon her tray.

“Sorry Mamma!” Stopping only to open the door, Little My called over her shoulder. “Oh, and just so you know, someone’s made an awful mess of the study, Pappa! I think it was Moomin.”

As she slammed the door behind her, the breeze blew a puff a smoke from his pipe back towards Moominpappa’s face. Coughing, he sighed.

“Are we really certain that one isn’t part Joxter as well?”

“Not in the house, Dear,” Moominmamma took the pipe from between Pappa’s teeth, setting his cup on the table.


	36. In Which Snufkin Thinks Very Many Thoughts

Sighing, Snufkin turned onto his side, stretching as he felt wakefulness poke through his hazy dream. Reaching his paws straight forward, he stretched, yawning. What time was it? Early, probably. He usually woke up early, but judging by the quiet, it was still too early for even the birds. Drowsily, he pulled the covers over his shoulder, curling around the soft circle of his pillow, carding his fingers through the fluff. Fluff. Not pillow. Moomin. Moomintroll. Moomintroll loved him.

Opening his eyes, Snufkin looked down to see that, yes, it was really Moomintroll. Still asleep, he lay curled, nose occasionally twitching. Laying back down, Snufkin refit his body against him, curving himself around him as if to protect the troll.

“ _What a phenomenal Moomintroll,”_ he thought, petting softly behind his ears. He smiled as they flicked, watched the way his friend’s sleeping body rose and fell with his breaths. “Phenominal Moomintroll,” he whispered, kissing the top of his head. Wide awake now, he cautiously placed an arm over him, holding onto Moomin, who stirred but did not wake. Good. He was glad to have a moment of quiet in which he could think, or at least try to.

Moomin had said he loved him. Him. Snufkin. Taking a moment, he tried to wrap his mind around the fact. Finding it too big, he decided to start smaller. He’d told Moomin he loved him. That resonated, filling him with a pinging embarrassment and pride. As sloppy as it was, he’d managed to get it out. It was more important to be honest than appealing anyway, wasn’t it? In any case, he’d told Moomin he loved him. Staring at his boyfriend’s face, Snufkin traced his finger down between his eyes. Boyfriend. Boy friend. A friend who was a boy. A boy who was a friend. More than a friend? Boy love. The boy he loved. The Moomin he loved. His Moominlove?

Blowing air out of his mouth, Snufkin tried to knock the hair off his face. Propping his cheek upon his hand, he watched Moomin’s tail twitch in his sleep. Alright. So he had told Moomin he loved him. And Moomin had said he loved him back. That was… Snufkin tried to think of the proper word, but his head only rang with a shrill cry. E Major. Alright, still to big to understand. Go smaller.

He’d told Moomin about how he’d planned to romance him. And Moomin had laid him out under the stars, and- Oh. Oh my. Snufkin blushed at the memory. How very forward of them both. He very much doubted he’d ever be able to think of Vega the same way again. He ought to name a star after Moomin, in thanks. He’d have to ask the Hemulen if there were any more stars waiting to be discovered and named.

So he had told Moomin he loved him, and Moomin had kissed him and then more than kissed him. Moomin had come back to his tent with him, had fallen asleep next to him, and now was sleeping so close to him that it was a wonder Snufkin’s pounding heart didn’t wake him up. Placing a paw over his chest, he tried to steady it.

Moomin had let him love him. He let Snufkin say he loved him. He let Snufkin show he loved him. He loved him back. A small spark raced through his belly. He loved him back. Moomin loved him back.

Breathless once more, Snufkin lay his head on the ground, staring at the back of Moomin’s neck. He loved him. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to the top of his shoulderblades, breathing in the scent of his fur. He loved him. Tightening his grip, he held onto him, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his voice well up in his throat as he held back all the things he wished to shout. He loved him.

Snufkin’s favorite thing about the world had always been how marvelously big it was. There were always new places to go, new things to see. But in this moment, it all became reduced down to those three words. He loved him. He loved him.

He could spend the rest of his life orbiting those words, would write entire ballads that repeated them over and over again. He loved him. There had never been a more important statement, a more beautiful sentiment. He loved him, he did, he really really did. Pressing the bridge of his nose fully against Moomin’s back, Snufkin forced his shriek into a heavy sigh, once again slowly breathing in the smell of Moomin’s fur. It mostly smelled like lake water. Fidgeting in his sleep, Moomin stirred, ears folding back as he opened his eyes, confused. Heart busy being stuck in his throat, Snufkin pretended to be asleep, not entirely certain that he wasn’t about to lose his goddamn mind. He felt Moomin stretch out, and then there was a paw on his head, ruffling his hair. Sighing, he pressed into the touch and Moomin chuckled, sitting up and fixing the blankets. Casually, Snufkin pretended to toss in his sleep, “accidently” scooting closer.

Reaching up, Moomin pet the hair back from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear gently. Craning his neck up into the touch, Snufkin peeked an eye open, utterly unprepared for how handsome his boyfriend would look with sleepy eyes and tousled fur.

“Hi,” Moomin whispered, smiling.

“H’llo,” Snufkin stretched, pretended he had just woken up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s still early, go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Never one to pass up a perfect opportunity, he kissed the top of Moomin’s snout before nestling his head beneath it, closing his eyes again. Curling his legs up, Moomin tucked them beneath Snufkin’s so that he was almost entirely surrounded by soft boyfriend fur. Ideal.

Trying to slow his breaths, he placed his paw above Moomin’s, counting his exhales until he forgot what number ought to come next.


	37. In Which Moomin and Snufkin Have A Lazy Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're one of the skippers, you can dip after the seventh paragraph or so. Literally nothing is added to the plot.

Snufkin wasn’t generally the sort of person who liked being touched a whole lot. He liked his space, needed it in fact. No matter how much fun he was having, as soon as he got the notion he was unable to leave, he tended to panic. There was nothing worse to a Snufkin than getting stuck, and as a result he very rarely stayed in one place long enough to be properly held and didn’t very much like being watched. So Moomin was going to enjoy every moment he had to do so.

Tracing his finger up Snufkin’s nose, he watched the way fur changed colors when he pushed it the wrong way. Crinkling his snout, Snufkin sneezed in his sleep, and Moomin had to cover his mouth to keep his laugh quiet. What a gorgeous Mumrik. What a fantastic Snufkin.

Petting the hair back on his head, Moomin studied the way the colors didn’t so much blend as just sort of meet, like two opposing seas. Deep rich brown all the way up his forehead, and then a very sudden auburn orange. It was cute, like a butterfly almost. Moomin doubted Snufkin would mind the comparison, though he would probably refute it. Gentle, not wanting to wake him again, Moomin pressed just the tip of his snout to Snufkin’s forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered, still enthralled by how novel the words felt in his mouth. They seemed like the sort of words that ought to be shouted, deserved a parade in their honor. He wanted to sew entire tapestries, to plant gardens that spelled out his name and hope that somehow the full extent of it might fall through. Snufkin mumbled in his sleep, nuzzling his head back against Moomin’s arm as he snored, a spot of drool pooling on his fur. What a fantastic Mumrik.

Stifling his giggle, Moomin pet his head again, tracing his finger down Snufkin’s nose, making his paw curl in Moomin’s fur. Moomin had also been blessed to learn that Snufkin still slept without his shirt on. His skinny arms tucked close against him, curled by his face. It wasn’t creepy to stare if they were boyfriends, was it? They had certainly done more than stare, though Moomin had done his fair share of that as well. But when Snufkin was awake and talking, it was so very hard to focus on anything but his smile, the way his eyes crinkled and nose twitched, and… Lord, he was such a beautiful Mumrik. A beautiful anything, really. Moomin thought that comparatively, the rest of the world seemed rather bland when held up against the way Snufkin looked when he was happy. Watching Snufkin’s paws, Moomin again studied how the fur petered out, turning to tan skin. While Moomin was round all over, his boyfriend (boyfriend!) had an interesting habit of being made up off all different sorts of curves. There was the curve of his arms, leading up into the entirely separate curve of his shoulder, which dipped down into the curve of his waist, unfolding into the curve of his hips. Resigned to being potentially creepy, Moomin unabashedly stared at Snufkin’s tummy, the thatch of fur creeping up his midriff, downy and unbelievably pleasant to run his snout against. Even without being covered in fluff, Snufkin still managed to be soft all over. Still sleeping, Snufkin twitched, his tail flopping out from beneath the blanket. Carefully, Moomin tucked it back in. He’d hate for Snufkin to get cold. He deserved to be warm and happy all the time.

Closing his eyes, Moomin pressed his snout to the top of Snufkin’s head, holding onto him. Snufkin loved him. He did, he loved him. Moomin wished he could properly explain how much he loved him back, how Snufkin was the entire world, how he didn’t feel the need to travel because the foreign wind looked best tousled in his hair and strange lands were most welcome when caked against the bottom of his boots. Not that he minded Snufkin’s need to travel, he just couldn’t imagine anything could possibly be more exciting than the sight of him arriving home, soft music floating over the valley. Snufkin snored, foot kicking in his dream. Moomin smiled.

He hoped the smell of Snufkin would cling to his fur, had half a mind never to wash it out again. If he could, he would bring Snufkin with him everywhere he could, but he knew his boyfriend (his loving boyfriend!) wouldn’t like that. Maybe Moomin could get a locket, put Snufkin’s picture inside it. That way, when people asked what was inside it, he could open it and say “Oh, that? That’s just a picture of my boyfriend,” proudly basking in the glory and adoration as they oohed and ahhed over just how handsome he was. Muttering something in his dream, Snufkin slapped his arm over Moomin’s face. Moomin lifted it, kissing Snufkin’s paw before tucking it back against his chest. He really was the luckiest moomin in all of history.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he laid there and watched Snufkin sleep, but eventually he did wake up. Feet pointing, he stretched from his toes up, sighing heavily as he craned his neck from side to side, wiping his eyes with his palms.

“Snuf?” Moomin stared at him, at the sleepy way his eyes blinked open.

“Yes?” His voice was more hum than word.

“I would very much like to kiss you right now.”

“By all means.” Lazily stretching his arms out, Snufkin hugged Moomin about the shoulders, pulling him down towards himself. Pressing his nose to the bridge between Moomin’s eyes, Snufkin kissed the top of his snout, sighing happily. “Not a terrible way to wake up.”

“You must have been tired; it’s already morning.”

“I suppose hearing so many nice things all at once must have worn me out.” Snuf kissed him again, nuzzling his fur. Gently, he began to pet the sides of Moomin’s face, already humming the beginning of a happy little song.

“Sorry, was it too much?”

“No, just a lot. I don’t suppose you’ve ever had such a wonderful moomintroll confess their love to you, so I wouldn’t expect you to know how exhausting it can be.”

Moomin’s tail flipped about behind him. “Exhausting?”

“Utterly draining, to have so much love. I don’t see how you carry it around all day.” Still muttering cheekily, Snufkin continued planting kisses along the top of Moomin’s face.

“I suppose you’re right. And here I was thinking _I_ was tired!”

“Fair enough. I can’t be easy to love, can I?”

“Oh no, loving you is the easy part. It’s the constant lifting that’s difficult. You try hoisting a mumrik up and ravishing him sometime.”

For a second Snufkin froze, and then bursting into laughter, he pressed his open smile to Moomin’s forehead.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Letting go, he braced himself up on his elbow so that they were face to face.

“Nothing, nothing!” Moomin waved a paw, dismissively. “Just that you’re very lucky I’ve got such manly stamina.” He barely had time to finish the sentence before he was hit in the face with a pillow.

“Manly stamina?” Snufkin laughed, reaching for the pillow again. “ _Manly stamina?_ ”

“It’s not my fault I’m an absolute stud!” Moomin caught the pillow this time, using it as a shield.

“Are you saying I’m not?”

“No! I’m just saying it’s a good thing you look so pretty lying down.”

“Moomintroll!” Gasping, Snufkin wrenched the pillow from his hands.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Holding his paws up, he tried to protect his face, still giggling.

“You better be! Or I swear-”

“You’ll swear?” Moomin play-gasped. “You mean if I keep teasing, you’ll actually swear?”

“I might,” Snufkin cocked an eyebrow. “That’s just how dangerous and unpredictable I am.”

“Oh, I’m positively swooning!” Falling forward, Moomin let himself land on top of Snufkin, who struggled to catch him. “Handsome man, take me now!”

“Don’t be rude, Moomintroll.” Giggling, Snufkin wiggled out from beneath him until Moomin’s head was resting in his lap.

“Or what? You’ll swear? I actually think I’d quite like to hear that.”

Still chuckling, Snufkin leaned down, kissing him on the lips.

Moomin was very glad they had all the borrowed blankets. As nice as Snuf’s tent was, it was extra nice to have such a good little nest. Bringing his paws up, he let his fingers tangle into his boyfriend’s bedhead, holding him gently. Leaning down further, Snufkin opened his lips, pressing his tongue against Moomin’s mouth, asking permission. Relaxing his jaw, Moomin sighed as Snuf deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue in, neither of them particularly caring that they hadn’t brushed their teeth yet. He supposed love made you silly like that sometimes.

Holding Moomin’s face, Snufkin slowly slid his knees out from beneath him, laying Moomin’s head down onto the blankets. Breaking the kiss, he began to nuzzle against his neck, pecking at the fur with his lips, taking his time as he did so. Shivering with how good it felt, Moomin wrapped his arms around him, tried to pull Snufkin back down into another kiss, but he had plans of his own, it seemed, kneeling over one of Moomin’s legs, slowly kissing up the side of his face, petting the sensitive fur behind his ears. Gasping, Moomin tightened his grip as his boyfriend’s leg pushed against him, making him very sorry for teasing him earlier.

“What was it you said? Not a bad way to wake up,” Moomin mumbled, kissing the top of his head.

Snufkin laughed. “Not bad at all.” Running his paw down, he kissed Moomin again as his finger curled through the fur on his belly.

“Snuf-” Moomin gasped, pushing up into his touch.

“Yes?” Kissing him on the lips, he continued his wonderful torment. Not actually having anything to say, Moomin just groaned, the sound becoming a moan beneath the kiss. “What’s on your mind? Thought of something else clever to say?” Teasing him mercilessly, Snufkin moved between his legs, pressing himself against him in a way that had Moomin nearly cross-eyed. Wrapping his arms around him, Moomin pulled him to his chest, paws tight against his back, feeling the occasional bat of Snufkin’s tail against him. Letting his paws slide down, he held Snufkin’s waist as he began to roll his hips forward, positively destroying Moomin. Nothing in the entire world could ever compare to Snufkin. The texture of his pants created a not-unpleasant friction, though Moomin suspected it would feel a lot better if they weren’t there. Inching his paws downwards, he held Snufkin’s thighs before bringing his fingers to the front, feeling for the close.

“Not yet,” Snufkin’s paw stilled him.

“Won’t it get uncomfortable?” Moomin worried.

“Uncomfortable for who?” Snufkin chuckled, kissing him again.

“At the very least it’ll seriously complicate things.”

“Not so much.” Purring now, Snufkin scooted off of him. “Now, I know you think I’m prettiest on my back-”

“I never said that!”

“-but how do you feel about letting me get on my knees for you?” Paw searching again, Snufkin rubbed his thumb against Moomin’s peeking arousal. Oh lord.

Entirely unprepared for his boyfriend to be quite so skilled at dirty talk, Moomin just flushed. Snufkin had always been the talented one, he supposed.

“I- If you want to- I mean- Alright.”

Kissing the side of Moomin’s neck again, Snufkin laughed. “I didn’t think it was _that_ easy to rile you up. Imagine what would have happened if I had sworn.”

Moomin very quickly imagined Snufkin bouncing in his lap, saying entirely inappropriate things. He decided he rather liked the idea.

Evidently thinking other thoughts, Snufkin leaned down, covering his arousal with his mouth.

“Oh!” Moomin gasped, flushing pink again.

“Is that alright?” Snuf looked up at him apprehensively.

“More than alright,” Moomin finally choked out.

Smiling, Snufkin leaned down again, opening his mouth to take him back in. Drawing up slowly, he began to run his fingers along him, paw soft and careful. Shuddering, Moomin balled the blanket in his fists, keeping himself propped up on so that he could watch. Taking his time, Snufkin bobbed his head back down, hollowing his cheeks until Moomin saw a veritable night sky. “Oh!” Gasping louder, he moaned as Snuf bent back down, closing his eyes as if in great concentration. His fingers dug into the fur along Moomin’s legs, holding him in place, and Moomin was again wracked with guilt for teasing such a flawless creature. Pulling back up, Snufkin leaned over Moomin to kiss his neck again, taking his arousal into his paw as he did so, stroking it.

“Relax,” he whispered, leaving kisses against Moomin’s throat.

“Sorry- You’re just- You’re so good. And I don’t want you to think that you have to- Not that I don’t want you to, but-”

“Moomintroll, do you really think it’s possible to make a mumrik do something they don’t want?”

“No?” Moomin offered, breath still shallow as Snufkin continued to stroke him, his movements easy and slick. “But I like making you feel good too, I want to make sure you’re having a good time as well.”

“Believe me, there is nothing else and no one else I would rather be doing right now.” Cupping his cheek, Snufkin kissed the top of Moomin’s snout. “I like being able to show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” Moomin groaned.

“Then relax. It’s your turn to lay back and be ravished.”

“Okay,” Moomin whined, still tense.

“Besides, I really do like it. You’re so cute.”

Embarrassed, Moomin covered his eyes with his paws, gasping again as he suddenly felt Snufkin’s mouth over him once more. Taking the entirely of his available length into his mouth, Snufkin hummed, letting his tongue press up against him. Peeking down, he watched as Snufkin drew back, his lips forming a perfect circle, making a wet popping sound as he pulled off of him, finally coaxing him out entirely.

Bringing his paw up, Snuf began to stroke him, planting a trail of kisses up the underside. Leave it to his boyfriend to make every bit of intimacy so loving and gentle. Still running his paw along him, Snuf smiled up at Moomin.

“See, I told you. Very cute.”

“Cute? I was hoping for a more manly adjective,” Moomin mumbled through his paws, which were now covering his smiling mouth.

Snufkin laughed. “My mistake then. Not cute- Dashing. Tantalizing.” He kissed along him again. “Striking!”

“Enough teasing!” Moomin closed his eyes, embarrassed but not truly upset. He had earned it, and really, so long as he didn’t stop, Snuf could say whatever he wanted.

“It’s not teasing if it’s true. Why else would I be content to let you do the work?” Leaning down, Snuf ran his tongue over him. “I owe you the upmost thanks for everything you do for Snufkin-kind.”

“Oh my lord!” Beyond embarrassed, Moomin dragged his paws down his face, not having to look at his boyfriend to know he was smiling.

“Consider it a small token of my not-so-small appreciation for your not-at-all-small help.”

“Snufkin! I-” Gasping, Moomin automatically balled his fingers into Snufkin’s hair as he bobbed his head back down, humming again. Unable to help himself, he looked down, only to be utterly captivated by the sight of Snuf’s tousled hair and hollowed cheeks. Pulling his lips back, he flicked at him with his tongue again, making Moomin jump. “Snufkin, please!” He wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking for, but Snufkin seemed to know anyway, bobbing his head down low again, straining as Moomin felt him try to swallow around him. Pulling back, he continued pumping him with his paw, once more drawing his tongue up and around him, planting kisses along the side as he went. “I’m almost- Almost!” Fingers digging into Snufkin’s hair, he held him tightly, gasping as Snuf took him back into his mouth, his purr making every muscle in Moomin’s body tense. “Okay! Alright! That’s- You’re so good! You’re so good, Snuf! You- You’re so beautiful! I- You’re so good, so good, so-” Gasping, Moomin nearly doubled over, as if he could press his snout to the top of Snuf’s head. His boyfriend, for his own part, was busy trying to hold Moomin’s legs apart, head dipping earnestly as he chased his lips with his free paw. Tail whipping about, Snuf picked up his pace, gasping for air as he continued to pull at him, entire body bent in half. Grabbing Snuf by the cheeks, Moomin pulled him up, kissing him on the lips. Paw still busily working him, Snufkin kissed him back, pushing his tongue into Moomin’s mouth when he gasped, felt his entire body shiver as he climaxed. Slower now, Snuf continued to stroke him, not stopping until Moomin broke the kiss with a sigh, entirely spent.

Falling onto his back with a groan, Moomin stared at the top of the tent, trying to decide if it was him or the air that was spinning. Popping up in his bottom periphery, Snuf knelt over him, looking almost nervous.

“Was that okay? Did I do alright?”

“Snufkin,” Moomin sighed, running his paws over his face, dragging his ears back. “You nearly killed me.”

“I’m sorry.” Giggling again, Snufkin lay on his chest, his purr vibrating Moomin’s entire body, making him laugh as well.

“Is it still too early to take a nap?”

“That depends.” Crossing his arms over Moomin’s chest, Snufkin rested his chin on them. “How lazy do you feel like being?”

“It isn’t lazy if you’ve just had your lifeforce sucked out through the tip of your-”

“Moomintroll!” Snufkin admonished, tail flicking behind him as he covered Moomin’s mouth with his paws. Laughing, Moomin kissed his palms, wrapping his arms around him and falling onto his side so that Snufkin was trapped into being his little spoon.

“Five minutes, then I’ll get up.” He pressed another lingering kiss to Snufkin’s palm.

Pulling his hands away, Snufkin scratched lightly at the fur behind Moomin’s ear. “I doubt it, but alright.”

Happily, Moomin buried his snout into his boyfriend’s messy hair, breathing in the sweet scent, unable to believe any one person could be so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my fic and that means I get to write gratuitous sleepy morning sex, plot be damned


	38. In Which Little My Continues Her Adventure

Digging into the ground, Little My tossed the wet dirt over her should. Genius. She was a genius. Climbing down into her sizable hole, she began to scrape at the dirt with her paws, no longer having patience enough for the small garden shovel she had commandeered. Besides, it was much quicker this way.

The ground was already pockmarked with holes of similar sizes, all of them aggravatingly empty. Not this one, though; she was sure of it. If the third time’s the charm, then this one ought to be CERTAIN. As she dug, she began telling the story to herself again, practicing it so that it would be perfect.

The first thing was to find the treasure. That was easy. Why, in just a matter of seconds, she’d already have done that, she was sure of it. Once she found the treasure, she’d just have to bring it back to Moominhouse, find a way to sneak it into the basement. That too would be easy; she was very good at sneaking. The next part was the best part; actually wooing Snorkmaiden. This was the bit she still had to decide upon; there were so many ways to do it. Perhaps she could rig something up onto the ceiling, put all the gold coins into a net so that they’d shower down as Snorkmaiden walked in. That might hurt her though; she’d have to wait and see how small the coins were.

Or maybe she could spread them all out over the bed so that she would walk into a glittering room of diamonds. And what if there were silks in the treasure? She could lay those out, except for one, which she could tie around herself like a sash. But it would be rather tedious to pick them all up again.

She could put them all in a box, and getting Snorkmaiden away, could open the box like a very special secret, dazzling her. But where would she get the box? Maybe she could take a normal box and incrust it with the jewels. Oh, but that would give away the secret, wouldn’t it?

Better yet, what if she invited Snorkmaiden over for tea, after making absolutely certain no one would barge in and bother them. She could make casual conversation, and then, pouring the pot, a bunch of gold necklaces would fall out instead! What an excellent joke! Though it wouldn’t work if the pendants were too big… She supposed it would be easier to plan once she could see her treasure. The only thing that mattered really was that Snorkmaiden felt appreciated and adored. She deserved to be appreciated and adored. My pictured her, surrounded by golden diamond-encrusted jewelry, going bright yellow because she was so happy. Or maybe it would be a warm pink. Whatever color, Little My thought, tossing dirt behind it, it was certain to become her new favorite. She began digging faster.

A few minutes later, sighing, she looked despondently upon the tree root that twisted up from the ground beneath her. Oh well. Hopping out of the hole, she glanced about herself once again, making sure nobody was watching. The trees seemed still enough, not even a breeze moving them. Good. Stepping one pace to the right, she picked up the shovel again, breaking ground. Humming a tuneless song, she began to dig. This would be the one; she could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Feral lesbian rights" -Little My


	39. In Which Snufkin Has A Very Good Morning

Looking out at the water, Snufkin thought it was an absolutely perfect day. In fact, it was so nice a day, there was nothing at all that could spoil it. Even if the sky suddenly erupted in thunderstorms, it would still be a day where he got to be in love with his best friend, and that made it a wonderful day. Pulling up the heavy fabric, Snufkin began to ring out the water, scrubbing at the damp blanket with the bar of hard soap he’d brought. Yes, it was a perfect day.

Off in the not-so-far distance he heard a scuttling sound. Looking up, Snufkin waved to Little My, who was busy pushing a box in a wheelbarrow.

“Good morning,” he smiled, dipping his hat down with a wet paw. Little My frowned, walking closer until she stopped at the path right beside him.

“You’re in a chipper mood today.” Crossing her arms, she cocked her hip, smirking.

“Life’s too grand to spend it being miserable, Little My.” Whistling, he dunked the blanket back into the water.

“Ah. I see. It’s about time you went proper mad, isn’t it?” Taking a seat on a rock beside him, she rested her face in her paws.

Snufkin rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Little My.”

“What? No fight? Are you sure you’re not sick?” She continued smirking, kicking her feet.

“Never felt better. Why? Are you sick?”

“Fit as a fiddle. Did you get enough sleep?”

“I always do.”

“And how did Moomintroll sleep?”

“Well enough. Though I wasn’t actually-” Pausing, Snufkin narrowed his eyes, looking at her. “How’d you know he’d spent the night?”

“I didn’t, not until you told me just now. I had my suspicions though.”

“Suspicions? What suspicions?” Snufkin scoffed, embarrassed.

“No person has any business being so happy.” Reaching out, she poked his nose with her finger. “Which means you’ve been up to something. There’s only a few things that make you this happy, and seeing as you’re not in prison…”

“What Moomintroll and I do is entirely our business.” Snufkin turned away politely, wringing the cloth out again.

“Please, keep it that way.” Little My gagged. “I don’t see how he can kiss you without throwing up. I mean, the very fact that someone would want to-”

“ _Little My_.”

“He’s a keeper, that’s for sure.” Putting her face in her paws, she looked into the shallow water. “Though if you tell him I said so, I’ll deny it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Standing up, he draped the wet blanket over a low branch before taking the next out of his basket.

“So what’s the deal? Did you finally realize no one else is going to put up with your weirdness?”

Snufkin’s tail whipped against the back of his ankles. “Not that it’s any of your or anybody else’s business, but Moomintroll and I happen to like each other very much.”

“ _Really_?” She dragged the word out unnecessarily. “I had _no_ idea!”

“Hush,” Snufkin chided her, unable to keep the reciprocal smile from his face.

“It’s a miracle you managed to finally tell him. You _did_ tell him, right?”

“I did, as a matter of fact. No thanks to your pestering.” Almost purring, Snufkin began to scrub with the hard soap.

“You told him or you _tried_ to tell him?”

“I told him. I looked him right in the eyes and said ‘Moomintroll-’ Well, it doesn’t matter what I said. Mind you own business!” Blushing, he plunged his paw into the cold water as Little My laughed.

“It’s a good match. You’re both ridiculous enough.”

“I will take that as a compliment.” Still embarrassed, he began to wring out the fabric. “So what’s in the wheelbarrow?”

“I can’t tell you.” She crossed her arms.

“Alright then.” Snufkin shrugged.

“Even if you beg.”

“I won’t.” Looking over his work, he rubbed at the fabric in a place that looked thin. He ought to mend it when it dried.

“And you can’t peek either, so just forget about it.”

“Already forgotten.”

“And don’t even think about telling Moomin about it-”

“Tell Moomin about what?” Looking out at the water, Snufkin frowned. “The current’s a bit fast today. I ought to get a weight for my line.”

“I can get you a good weight,” Little My leaned forward. “But you can’t tell anyone where you got it.”

“I’ll just use a rock.”

“No, this is much cooler.” Jumping up, she ran back to her box. Checking to make sure Snufkin wasn’t trying to peek, she furtively opened it, grabbing something out and bringing it back to him. “Look at this!”

“That _is_ special.” Snufkin held the small red rock in his hand. It was clear, or at least would be if you shone a light right against it. “Is it sea glass?”

“Something like that. Tie it to your line; the fish will like the color.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Thank you, Little My.” Pocketing the rock, he gathered his things. “Good luck with whatever trouble you’re getting into.”

“You too.” Bounding off, she lifted the wheelbarrow again. “Oh, and Snufkin? If you even THINK-”

“You’ll have my teeth, I know, I know.” Lifting his basket, he waved to her over his shoulder.


	40. In Which Mymble is Very Much In Love

“No need to be so worried, Dear.” Too-Ticky took a slow sip from her cup of tea.

“Worried? I’m not worried.” Wringing her paws, Mymble stared at the door.

“I’m sure he did just fine.”

“Yes, but, what if he didn’t? What if he messed it all up and it’s my fault?” Eyes wide, she turned back to her wife. “Oh! I’ve ruined my brother’s relationship! I’m the worst big sister ever!”

Chuckling, Too-Ticky stood, putting her cup aside to stand beside the large chair Mymble had curled herself into. Taking her face between her paws, Too-Ticky kissed the crease between her brows. “You’re a wonderful big sister, Dear. Besides, if things had been terrible, he’d be back by now for your head.”

“Are you sure?” Mymble frowned, eyes still shiny with almost-tears.

“Your lot never seem shy of shouting at one another. Besides, if he went up in flames, I’m sure we’d have heard about it from My.”

Groaning, Mymble covered Too-Ticky’s paws with her own. “Then what’s taking him so long?”

“All sorts of things, most likely. In case you’ve forgot, I’ve also dated a mymble.” She kissed the side of her face, smiling. “Dinner dates have a tendency to become breakfast dates.”

“Too-Ticky!” Laughing, Mymble scrunched up, pulling away without letting go of her wife’s hands. “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about!”

“Sorry, I’d already forgotten all about him.” Pulling her wife out of her chair, Too-Ticky held her paws, leading her in a slow dance about the room. “I was distracted by the memory of our first date.”

“Oh? What about it was so distracting?” Mymble teased.

“That lovely outfit you wore.”

“The pink dress?” Letting herself be lead about, Mymble smiled, looping an arm over her wife’s shoulders.

“Oh, yes, that was nice too. But I was talking about the other one, the one where you came down for breakfast in my shirt and nothing but.”

Mymble laughed at the memory. “You nearly choked! For a second I thought I’d have to call for the doctor.”

“It’s still my favorite thing to see you in.”

“You absolute fiend!” Giggling, Mymble stopped the dance, leaning down to kiss Too-Ticky’s nose. “I swear, if you weren’t so suave…”

“I have to be, don’t I? It’s not easy to keep a heartbreaker.”

“Heartbreaker? Don’t be cruel.” Still giggling, she cupped her wife’s face, kissing her nose again.

“Mymble, you are personally responsible for over half the love songs composed in the Valley.”

“Only half?” Mymble chided.

“The other half were probably written by that brother of yours.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Mymble closed her eyes.

“All the same, I’d be a fool to let you go.”

“Then don’t.” Pressing their foreheads together, Mymble smiled.

“I won’t.” Craning her neck back, Too-Ticky kissed her wife, feeling that same settling contentment she felt every time she was lucky enough to do so. Scooping a paw around her waist, she started the dance up again, heart light at the way their teeth clicked as Mymble laughed.

“You know, it’s been ages since we went out on a proper date.”

“It’s been a week, Dear.”

“Proper ages,” Mymble sighed. “We ought to do something. I can’t waste all my romantic prowess on boys.”

“What sort of thing do you have in mind?”

“Something where I get to wear a nice dress. A real nice dress, with buttons and lace.”

“Does that mean I have to get dressed up too?” Too-Ticky raised an eyebrow.

“Marriage is all about compromise, Dear. Besides, you don’t hate fancy dress as much as you say.”

“My favorite part of squeezing into a suit is taking it off.”

“Exactly. And with all those buttons and lace, I’m going to need a lot of help getting out of mine.”

“Oh, you cheeky thing!” Laughing, Too-Ticky kissed her wife again. “Alright, I’ll take you someplace nice. But you have to make me a promise.”

“What is it?”

“You have to promise me I’ll I get to spend the entire evening absolutely adoring you.”

Mymble laughed as Too-Ticky wrapped her arms about her legs, lifting her up off the ground. Bracing her paws against her wife’s shoulders, she smiled, letting herself be dropped into a bridal carry.

“Deal! And the week after we can have a date in the boat, just to make it doubly even. I won’t even talk the whole time and scare all the fish away.”

“I doubt the fish mind.” Kissing her wife’s forehead, Too-Ticky placed her back in her chair. “In fact, they’d probably start throwing themselves into the boat just to get closer to you.”

“Like a siren to the fishes?” Keeping her arms around her shoulders, Mymble pulled Too-Ticky into the chair alongside her, draping her legs over her lap.

“Exactly like a siren.” Kissing Mymble’s nose, Too-Ticky smiled. “How could anybody resist?”

Giggling, Mymble held her as she began to kiss along her cheek and jaw. “I’ll have to find my sunhat. Fishing days tend to go long.”

“Can you blame me?” Kissing her neck, Too-Ticky put a paw on Mymble’s side. “Just you and me and the open ocean; no bothers, no interruptions, no distractions. Any creature with half a heart would jump at the chance!”

“You’ve too charming, Dear. You’ll make me positively melt.” Mymble sighed happily, arching her back up as Too-Ticky made her way down her collarbone.

“Never as charming as you deserve.”

“Better than I deserve.”

“Impossible. You deserve the world.”

Humming appreciatively, Mymble kissed the top of her wife’s head, the sound breaking into a soft gasp as her lips found their way down to her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? A first date? A pink dress? Mymble being a flirt? Butch/femme rights?
> 
> Read more about it over in my new lil prequel fic, Bluebells! *finger guns*  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305783/chapters/48138877


	41. In Which Snufkin Unsuccessfully Tries To Catch Fish

Laundry safely drying on the line he had rigged up in the tree behind him, Snufkin sat upon the riverbank, casting and recasting his line. It was not a good day for fish. Or perhaps it was a good day _for_ fish, as every single one of them evaded his line. Normally such a thing would upset him, but Snufkin didn’t mind. He liked to think that the fish realized he needed some alone time to think and were giving him an excuse to do so. Awfully clever of them, really.

Relaxing, he let the end of his fishing rod rest against the dirt between his knees. What a pleasant day. What a pleasant valley. What a pleasant life. The world around him creaked with all the sorts of sounds nature puts into the quiet, and blissfully, Snufkin hummed along. Slowly, he began to add words to the song.

“ _Moomintroll loves me_ ,” he readjusted his hat, nodding at a bee that flew a bit too close to his face. Perhaps it was enjoying his song. He continued, “ _He does, and he said that he loves me._ ” Lifting his rod, he tested the slack. “ _To be fair, I said it first, but he said it too, and that’s what matters!_ ” It wasn’t a particularly good song, but Snufkin liked it well enough to go for a second verse. “ _Moomintroll loves me, and I love him too, and_ -“ the song warbled off into uncertainty.

 _And_ what? What happens after two people are in love? He thought of the people he knew who were in love. Mamma and Pappa, of course. Snufkin tried to imagine himself setting tables and inviting constant guests into a spacious house. Hmm. Probably not. But it was good how free they were to go off on adventures whenever they pleased. One of things he admired about them was how at the slightest hint of adventure, Mamma and Pappa (mostly Mamma) would pack bags of food, and then they’d be off. That was nice. He’d like that freedom, to go about with your best friend whenever you wished.

His sister was also in love, of course. She and Too-Ticky had had a wedding and everything. Mostly it was Mymble’s doing. He reckoned he ought to keep her and Moomin apart for a bit unless he wanted the entire valley staring at him, surrounded by flowers and wearing itching, ridiculous clothing. He didn’t think he’d make it very long before tossing his flowers in someone’s face, demanding that they mind their business. No, that wouldn’t do either, though he wouldn’t mind the bit about having a small cabin by the sea.

There was the couple with the fireworks of course; he quite liked them a lot. But they hadn’t stayed around long enough for him to find out what their happily ever after looked liked, though he imagined it had a lot to do with exploding things. Was everyone’s happily ever after so different? Maybe if he and Moomin visited enough in-love people, they could make lists of what they liked and what they didn’t, and create their own from that. Or maybe it wasn’t all so official. Maybe happy was just a thing that continued to happen when you least expected it. He certainly hadn’t expected himself to stay in Moominvalley longer than a week when he first arrived. He hadn’t expected to grow a family, to make friends, and he did not in the least expect to fall in love. Maybe that was the trick of it. Maybe life just continued happening when you least expected it.

 

“Interesting bobber you’ve got there.”

Turning, Snufkin looked at the man who had suddenly appeared behind him. He must have walked up while Snufkin was lost in thought.

“Thank you.” Recasting his line, he stared at the ripples in the water. “It doesn’t seem to be working very well.”

“Perhaps the fish know it’s stolen.”

“Stolen?” Snufkin looked up at the man in surprise.

“Sure, sure. Animals are smart like that. Smarter than you seem to be, at least.” Picking him up by the back of his tunic, the man lifted Snufkin into the air. _Not again,_ he thought, legs swinging.

“Hey!” Snufkin kicked, hoping he might be able to squirm out of his coat and get away.

“I’m curious; what type of stupidity does it take to try to out-bandit a bandit?”

“I’m not a bandit!” More than a bit miffed, Snufkin stared at his fishing rod on the ground. He sincerely hoped no fish would come along and drag it away. Wouldn’t that be his luck?

“I am.”

“Then why are you accusing _me_ of stealing?”

“Because you stole what we’ve already stolen! That’s against bandit code.”

“I’m not a bandit!”

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“You know what!”

“I don’t know what!” Snufkin reached for the paw holding him, hoping to be let down.

“Yes you do!” Growling, he poked at him. Frowning, Snufkin pushed his paw away.

“I don’t! Why would I?”

“Someone saw you!”

“Saw me doing what?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? How many thieving redheads are running about here?”

 _Little My,_ Snufkin thought crossly, still trying to pry the fingers off the back of his coat. “Well you’ve got the wrong one!”

“I don’t think I do!” Lifting him to face level, the bandit growled. “I think you’re trying to steal from us, isn’t that right?”

“Why would I want to steal from you?” Crossing his arms, Snufkin huffed.

“You really think I’d fall for that? Pretending you’re not trying to take what’s ours?”

“I’m not! I don’t want your stuff! Now if you wouldn’t mind-”

“Don’t mind at all, actually.”

To Snufkin’s utter surprise, the man actually put him down. Only for a moment though, before he quickly scooped him back up under his arm, carrying him off. Resigning himself to a waste of a day, Snufkin groaned, letting his arms fall. Where was Moomintroll when you really needed him?


	42. In Which Snufkin is Bored

Leaning back against the wall, Snufkin tapped his harmonica with his fingertips once again, just to feel that it was still in his pocket. To be completely honest, he was a little disappointed in how uneventful an adventure this was turning out to be. After the first bandit had tossed him down the hole into what he was told would be a brig, he had been surprised to see another bandit. Perhaps they weren’t bandits at all, but pirates. It would explain the ship.

The so-called brig was more a spare cargo hold than anything remotely prison-like. There was even a window, wherein he could watch the waves hit the side of the ship. As far as trouble went, this experience was nearly deluxe. Not that the idea of being locked up didn’t make him fidgety, but the room somehow managed to completely evade the feeling of being captured.

The man sitting opposite him frowned. Snufkin didn’t understand why he had to keep doing that; it was as if every few minutes he remembered he ought to be frowning, and fixed his face accordingly. When Snufkin was first tossed down here, he had pointed out that they were both wearing yellow scarves. The man did not seem to think that fact was as interesting as he did.

For the umpteenth time, Snufkin stared at the not-at-all-distant shore and sighed, positively bored to tears.

“If you don’t quit moping, I’ll give you a reason to mope.”

Turning to look at the man, it was Snufkin’s turn to frown. “I’m not moping.” And besides, even if he had been, didn’t that mean he had plenty reason to already?

“I can’t stand whiny hostages.”

Rolling his eyes, Snufkin looked out the window again. “If it’s so much trouble, why don’t you let me go? I’ll get out of your hair, and I won’t even tell the others.”

The pirate-bandit seemed to think it over a moment before shaking his head. “Not a chance. Not until we’ve got back what you stole.”

“I haven’t stolen anything.”

“We don’t believe you.”

“I don’t see what you’re so upset about, anyway. Whatever it is, it wasn’t yours in the first place.”

“It was on our land, wasn’t it?”

“ _Your_ land?” Snufkin bristled. He was starting to like this stranger less and less.

“Our land!” He pointed out the window to the pockmarked shore. “Everybody knows that this is our territory!”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Grumbling, Snufkin pulled his knees up, resting his chin on his paws. Imagine, having such audacity!

“If you were a proper bandit, you’d know that.”

“I’m not a proper bandit.”

The man scoffed. “That’s apparent.”

“Besides, even if I had whatever you were looking for, how do you expect me to give it back when you’re keeping me here?”

“Simple. We’ll starve you out until you confess.”

“Oh. Sorry to disappoint then, but I shan’t be of any help.” Using his finger, Snufkin started drawing in the dirt on the floor.

“Feeling smart, are we?” The man sat up, narrowing his eyes. “Do you really think you’re tough enough to back up that talk?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m just not very scared, I suppose.”

“Not scared? Not scared!” The man raised his eyebrows. “You’d be a fool to not be scared! This is a very scary place!”

Snufkin looked again at the relatively well-kept room. “I’ve seen much worse. Besides, my boyfriend will be along at any moment. I have a boyfriend, you know.” Reaching into his pocket, Snufkin took out his pipe. “Do you mind if I smoke in here?”

“I wouldn’t count on anyone coming to save you. That being said, who am I to deny a dying man his last requests?” The bandit sneered, spitting out the porthole.

“Thank you. He’s very clever.” Packing some tobacco into his pipe, Snufkin breathed in, lighting it. “I’m sure he’s on his way already.”

“What makes you so certain we won’t just capture him as well?”

“And do what once the next person comes?” Snufkin looked up at the man, blowing out a puff of smoke as he spoke. “You’ll just end up capturing the whole valley, one person at a time.”

“If that’s what it takes, that’s what we’ll do.”

Snufkin looked around the small cabin. “It’ll get very full very fast.”

“Not if we kill you.”

“You won’t have time to kill me.”

“Oh?” The man chuckled darkly. “What makes you so certain?”

“I told you. My boyfriend’s already on his way.”

“Perhaps he can arrive just in time to watch me throw you to the sharks. It’ll give you a chance to say goodbye as you plummet to your death; romantic, right?”

“I’ve never had a head for romance. We’ve only been dating for a little while. Although to be fair, if _I_ knew we had started dating when _he_ thought we started dating, we’d be together much longer.” Sighing, Snufkin rested a cheek on his paw. “He’s very handsome. Just wait until you see him. Or don’t. You probably won’t even see him at all. I’m quite ready to be rescued, to tell you the truth. I’d climb out of here myself if I had anything better to do.”

“That’s not how kidnapping works.”

“But also, I think that he might enjoy the rescuing, so that’s a good enough reason to stay. I’m trying to work on asking for help, and this feels like a good start.”

“You really aren’t comprehending the gravity of your situation.” The bandit pointed to his knife. “I could make a rug out of you if I wanted.”

“I know, I know.” Snufkin waved his words off, displacing his smoke as well. “But you won’t.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“Because my boyfriend’s on his way. Haven’t you been listening?”

“Can I get a gag?” The bandit called up the trapdoor.


	43. In Which Moomin is a Wonderful Boyfriend

Letting the flap of Snufkin’s tent fall back down, Moomin looked across the river. Nope, still no Snufkin. Perhaps he was fishing; his rod and bucket were missing. As much as he wanted to go out and look for him, Moomin had to remind himself that Snufkin deserved his space. He’d been lucky enough to have an entire evening and night; no wonder Snufkin needed some recharging. Smiling, Moomin began to hum to himself as he absentmindedly kicked the cinders of Snufkin’s campfire into a tidier pile. He wondered if a campsite could ever feel like home to him. Moomin certainly didn’t think he’d like to travel so much as Snufkin did, but perhaps he wouldn’t mind. Oh- He paused, startled by a thought. If they got married, would he need a spare tent in case Snufkin needed space? It seemed like a lot to carry around two tents everywhere and only see his parents once a year.

Frowning, Moomin shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. Why, they’d only just decided they were dating, and he was already planning the rest of their lives. He chuckled, imagining the look on Snufkin’s face if he knew. He’d probably puff all up, eyes going the size of saucers. No, it was all well and good for a moomintroll to go so fast, but Snufkin needed time, and that was okay. Moomin always been quick to fall in love, but it had never been so important before, and this time he was going to do it right. Everything else almost felt like practice, leading up to this one, big, great love. Again, he thought of Snufkin’s tail going bushy at the mere thought of such sudden devotion and smiled to himself. Snufkin was funny like that. Moomin didn’t mind; he loved him enough to wait for him. For now, it was enough to know that he was in love with his best friend.

Moomin wondered if his father had felt this silly when he first met Mamma. He couldn’t picture Mamma ever losing her head like this, but she had always been the collected one. Pappa was even more dramatic than he was, so it wouldn’t be surprising to learn that he was even worse a fool than Moomintroll. Moomin wondered if one day his kids would think the same thing about him. Knocking a paw against his ear, he forced himself back into the present. Later. All of that could come later. He really had to work on taking things slowly. Perhaps it was a good thing Snufkin wasn’t there right now; Moomin wasn’t sure he would be able to resist the urge to say something stupid. Looking down at his work, Moomin kicked his feet, trying to knock loose the ash from his fur. Snufkin would come back when he was ready to come back, and when he did, Moomin would be the picture of calm chivalry. He looked at the tent again. Maybe he could fix up the blankets for him as a “thank you for letting me stay the night.” Opening the flap again, he noticed that the blankets were gone. Oh. Snufkin had probably already taken them, which solved the mystery of where he went. Moomintroll secretly hoped he only aimed to wash them and didn’t intend on returning them. As similar as the two of them were, they had a few inconsequential differences, one of which being that Moomintroll did _not_ like sleeping on hard ground. In fact, Snufkin seemed to be the only person who did. He’d spent enough time with Little My to know she more burrowed in a bed than slept in it, and he’d been over to Too-Ticky’s enough to see the sheer amount of blankets Mymble kept around. Moomin scratched his head. Maybe it was a Joxter thing. In any case, he wouldn’t mind a bit of softness, and seeing as sharing space with someone was already a compromise for Snufkin, he figured it would be too much to ask him to sleep indoors, so, he could bring that bit of indoors outdoors. That sounded fair. A bit proud of himself, Moomin straightened his posture. He was so good at this “boyfriend” thing already.


	44. In Which Snufkin is Very Much Fed Up

The floorboards above him creaked as somebody stomped about on the deck. Snufkin watched the dark wood with only half-interest. It wasn’t a secret that they were irritated with him; he only wished they’d become irritated enough to move along. But no, they seemed as stubborn as they were stupid. With another whining noise, the door was forced open, a pair of boots appearing on the ladder, followed quickly by legs, a red shirt, and a head.

Snufkin nodded at his initial kidnapper, blowing another puff of smoke out the window.

“I don’t suppose you’re ready to talk?”

“Believe me, there’s been plenty of that.” Grumbling, the man with the yellow scarf stood up, stretching his back. Snufkin supposed it would be polite to ask them their names, but then decided against it. He really didn’t care all that much, and besides, they didn’t seem the sort of people one ought to bother being polite to.

“I’ve told you all I know,” he shrugged, resting his chin upon a paw.

“And then some. If Captain didn’t need you alive-”

“Speaking of which,” the first man pulled a thin, coiled rope from his belt loop. Snufkin absentmindedly wondered how many bandits there were. “Captain thinks he has a better chance at making ‘em talk.”

“He can try all night if it suits him. As far as I’m concerned we’ve got an idiot on our paws.”

As hurt as he was, Snufkin didn’t want to dissuade them from their opinion. The best thing he could be to them was useless.

“All the same.” Grabbing Snufkin by the upper arm, the red-clad bandit gave no warning before yanking him to his feet. Snufkin barely had time to crush the embers of spilled tobacco beneath his heel before the man was gripping his arms much too tightly, tying them with the harsh rope.

“There’s no need for all that. Really!” Irritated, Snufkin tugged unsuccessfully at his bound wrists. Any Captain that insisted on meeting him like this was a coward.

“Not taking any chances on such a slippery lass. Otto, get up there. I’ll hand ‘em up.”

“You could let me climb by myself,” Snufkin grumbled, not at all happy at being hoisted like a bag of flour.

“Sorry, love. Can’t take the risk.” Grabbing him from above, the yellow man (Otto, he supposed) deposited him on the ground, leaving Snufkin with the unfortunate task of trying to stand on the deck of a ship being rocked by the sea. Moominpappa and his father had spent time on a ship once. In fact, it was how they met, wasn’t it? Narrowing his eyes, Snufkin peered out at the horizon, very much wishing he had his hat to block the sun. He didn’t see how any mumrik could live on a ship. Sure, there were plenty of places to visit, but even more so there were countless nights confined to a small space. No thank you, he’d stick to solid, wanderable land.

A paw grasped his shoulder, steadying him. Indignant, Snufkin tugged out from beneath it only to stumble again, being caught by the red bandit, who had by that point finished climbing up the hatch.

“Careful. We wouldn’t want you falling overboard prematurely.”

Looking out at the coast, Snufkin tried to calculate whether or not he could swim it without arms. Probably not. The yellow man grabbed his other shoulder, the two of them combining efforts to steer him in the right direction. Perhaps because he was fed up with being told what to do, or perhaps just out of sheer stubbornness, Snufkin decided to dig his heels in as the men tried to bring him towards the interior of the ship. No, he wasn’t going down without a fight. Silently, the bandits readjusted their grip, lifting him easily. Oh. More than a bit embarrassed, Snufkin continued to kick, swinging uselessly between them.

“I can walk on my own!”

“No, that’s a privilege you’ve lost.” Otto shouldered his weight roughly, narrowly avoiding a kick as they carried him down a hallway.

“Let me down! I mean it!”

“Calm down, or things will only get worse.”

Snufkin didn’t want to ask what he meant by _worse_ , too busy being annoyed at this entire ordeal. It was beyond rude, and they had no right to treat him this way. Oh, when he met their captain, he’d give him a swift kick in the-

As the door opened, the first thing Snufkin noticed was what a peculiar shade of blue their bookshelf was painted. The second thing he noticed was that it was _not_ a bookshelf, but a very large man. All the rigidity in Snufkin’s frame melted away as he let his weight drop uselessly.

Turning to look at him, the man narrowed his eyes. They were grey, like the clouds that gathered before a storm.

 _Oh,_ Snufkin realized, _perhaps this was a bit more serious that he had initially thought._

The other two set him down, and Snufkin almost wished they hadn’t, no longer trusting his legs not to give out beneath him.

“I heard you’ve taken to stealing from me.” Closing his teeth around a pipe with a click, the man blew smoke out of his nose as he talked.

Snufkin just stared, suddenly second-guessing his own story. Had he stolen from these men and just not noticed? He frantically racked his brain for anything he might have taken recently.

“Well? Did you?” The man leaned in closer. Snufkin began to shake his head vehemently.

“No, I didn’t!”

“I saw him,” Otto piped up, raising a hand. “It was him! I’m certain!”

The Captain looked back at Snufkin. “You’ve got a twin running about?”

“No?”

“Then you’re lying to me. Now,” uncrossing his arms, he grabbed the front of Snufkin’s tunic. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” More than a bit nervous now, Snufkin could feel himself beginning to panic.

“Yes you do!”

“I don’t!”

“If you don’t tell us,” the blue man growled, lifting him by the front of his shirt, “I will personally drop you overboard just to have the satisfaction of watching you sink.”

Snufkin felt his feet leave the ground again. His brain went to static as the collar of his shirt caught against his face. He needed a plan, and fast. Oh, how could anybody think so quickly? Terrified, he tried to rush his mind through every pirate story he had ever heard, unable to remember anything beyond that one time he’d watched Moomin and Little My play pirates, hitting at one another with wooden swords. What would a pirate do? What _would_ a pirate do? Or better yet, what would Moomintroll do?

“Well?” The man growled, close enough that Snufkin could feel the words as well as hear them.

“Okay! Okay!” If he could, he would have held his paws up in front of himself in surrender. “I’ll draw you a map to where I buried it!”

“A map?” The Captain looked at him suspiciously.

Snufkin nodded fervently. “Yes! A map!”

“You think that trick’ll work on me?”

“No! I mean- I don’t remember the names of the roads, but I can plot it out for you!”

“Yes?”

“Yes! And if you go out and still can’t find it, you can make me into a rug when you get back, right?”

“Who would want a rug made of your shoddy hide?” He tisked.

Snufkin frowned, equally terrified and offended. “I’ll make you a map, I swear! Just give me some paper and a pen and a bit of time!”

“You better not be pulling something. Because if you are,” he lifted him right up to his face. “We’ll find out.”

“On my honor as a bandit, I promise!”

“Promises never meant much, but I suppose I’d get near equal satisfaction from throwing you to the fishes.” Snufkin pondered for a minute the irony of being eaten by a fish. If it wasn’t so horrifying, it’d be kind of funny. Not wasting any gentleness, the Captain set him down, gripping Snufkin’s shoulder and turning him roughly. With a quick snap of a blade, he cut the binds around his wrists before kicking him in the direction of the hallway. Stumbling, Snufkin barely managed to avoid falling down before being unceremoniously lifted once again, carried back and dropped into the now much more foreboding brig.

Watching the door above him snap shut, Snufkin drew his shoulders up defensively, feeling the sweat crawl along his spine. Oh. He was in real trouble now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends and Fiends! *dabs*  
> Wanted to pop in and say thank you so much for all your lovely comments, questions, theories, and exasperations! I cannot emphasize enough how much it means that people not only read, but want to interact with my work. Genuinely surreal. Anyway, just a reminder that you can find me on Tumblr at OurLittleSecretMoomin where there is plenty of art and fic recs, because really, what good is fic if you can't scream about it on a blog?  
> Alright, so basically, thanks, I love yall, good luck to the students out there, and
> 
> Cheers


	45. In Which Moomin Makes A Discovery

It was such a lovely day. Moomin took his time meandering along the river, having made up his mind to gather some of the purple flowers for Snufkin. Carefully, he inspected them one by one, splicing the stems and dropping them into the jar of water he was carrying. They needed to stay fresh until he was ready to braid them; he didn’t want to present his boyfriend with a droopy crown. Examining a particularly large one, he smiled, adding it to his collection. Maybe he could ask the Hemulen how to preserve flowers. That would be a nice gift, wouldn’t it? Oh, but Snufkin didn’t like things he had to carry about with him, and a preserved flower would probably get squished in a backpack. Oh well. Continuing on, Moomin let the lazy warmth of the day sink into him, his over-full heart already chattering away.

He didn’t know when Snufkin would be back; probably not until later. Moomin imagined him walking up the riverbank, whistling. He’d stop, look up at the sky, and taking his hat off his head, wipe sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Moomin pictured the way his eyes would glisten with the setting sun, hair patted down from being trapped all day long. And Snufkin would turn and look at him, and he would smile, and replacing his hat, would shoulder his fishing rod once again, coming over to see him.

“Hello, Moomintroll,” he would say.

“Hello, Snufkin,” Moomin would reply. “Did you catch any fish?”

“Oh yes,” Snufkin would lift up a bucket positively filled with fish.

“Oh, that’s so nice!” Moomin would say, still hiding the flowers behind his back.

“Yes,” Snufkin would nod deftly, placing the bucket down. “There were so many fish, and I am so good at fishing. I could have stayed all night.”

“Oh?” Moomin would say, sounding surprised. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because…” Suddenly shy, Snufkin would take off his hat, holding it tightly in his paws as he stared at the ground, “I would miss you too much because I am in love with you!”

Chuckling good-naturedly, Moomin would kiss his boyfriend’s nose, causing him to gasp lightly. “Oh, Snufkin,” Moomin would say, placing the wreath of flowers upon his head. “You are so silly.”

Snufkin would brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes, smiling bashfully. In the evening light, the purple flowers would positively glow next to the sweet browns and auburns of his fur.

“I love you, Moomintroll,” he would say, clasping Moomin’s hand. “Let’s go make out.”

“Oh, Snufkin,” Moomin would say, scooping him up in his arms and-

Moomin tripped, water sloshing in the jar as he just barely managed to keep his balance. Frowning, Moomin looked down, upset with whatever it was that had ruined a perfectly good daydream. His irritation quickly turned to confusion as he lifted the fishing rod. It looked an awful lot like Snufkin’s. What was it doing lying in the grass like that? Looking around, Moomin spotted a basket of familiar folded blankets. So it _was_ Snufkin’s. Carefully, Moomin picked up the rod, winding the empty line and carrying it over towards the tree. What was Snufkin doing just leaving his fishing rod laying around? If there was any item Snufkin loved, it was his fishing rod. Well, that and-

Moomin’s stomach dropped. Uneasily, he took a few steps, picking up Snufkin’s hat from where it lay crumpled on the ground. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This was not good. Something bad had happened, terrible even. Snufkin _never_ left his hat behind. In fact, Mymble used to joke that he was born wearing it. Frantic, Moomin tried to remember a single adventure wherein Snufkin had forsaken his hat, but came up blank. Oh no oh no oh no- Moomin thought up a few select words he’d never dare say out loud. Forsaking his jar of flowers, Moomin held the hat to his chest, sprinting back home.


	46. In Which Snufkin Draws A Map

“Captain says he’ll tie you to the bow if you don’t do it right.”

“I’m sure he will.” Muttering, Snufkin smoothed the paper out on the floor in front of him.

“Says it’s good luck to have a mermaid at the front.”

“Ah, sorry, I suppose I’ve got a few too many legs to be of much luck then.”

“Any lady figure, really. Peder says it’s supposed to keep the lady of the cold from freezing the waters. We haven’t had a figurehead for a while now, and it’s getting everyone antsy.”

Snufkin bit the end of the pen, thinking. “I am good at avoiding snow, I’ll give you that. But you could achieve just as much with a compass.”

“Captain says having a skeletal lady as a figurehead would really get us some respect.”

Snufkin paused, looking up at Otto, irritated. “Captain seems to say a lot of things, doesn’t he?”

“He also said that at the slightest bit of trouble, I’m to tie you right up again.”

“It’s a good thing I’m so cooperative.” Squinting, Snufkin took another moment to think before tracing a coastline along the edge of the paper. “Tell me, are all of you so superstitious?”

“It isn’t superstition if it’s true.”

“Fair point. Are all of you as… knowledgeable about… signs?”

“You have to be, to be a good bandit.” Leaning back in his chair, the man interlaced his fingers behind his head, whistling with no small amount of bravado. “It’s important to be clever, to know how to read things before they actually happen.”

Nodding quietly, Snufkin began to draw out a path, feeling a nervous churning low along his spine as he carefully marked every junction of the road. “Of course. It would be ashamed to come so far only to be stopped by something as simple as wood fairies.”

“Exactly-” The man began to speak again before pausing, narrowing his eyes. “Wood fairies?”

“Of course.” Snufkin shrugged, chuckling. “Imagine, being so improper a bandit that you didn’t even know to look out for the wood fairies!”

The man laughed along, a tinge of nervousness to his tone as he refolded his paws in his lap. “Right! How silly.” He continued to laugh, and then, clearing his throat, glanced out the window. “It really has been, oh, _ages_ since we’ve been here last. Remind me; where exactly are the wood fairies?”

“Oh, these are the sort that are easy to spot, don’t worry about it.” Snufkin nodded briskly, the cold air coming off the ocean making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Yes, yes, yes, of course.” The man twiddled his thumbs, obviously mulling something over. “But supposing they weren’t-”

“Nothing to worry about, so long as you don’t mind a little burn here and there. The important thing is that you know to clap as you walk so that you don’t startle them.”

“Well, of course!” The bandit visibly relaxed, though his laugh was still a bit forced. “Who could ever forget that?”

“Third rate bandits.” Snufkin shrugged, smiling.

“Third rate? Bottom of the barrel’s more like it!” Chuckling, he rested his arms on his knees, peering down at Snufkin’s handiwork. “You know, if you turn out honest, you’d be a great addition to the crew. We wouldn’t even tie you to anything, probably.”

“I’ve never been more flattered,” Snufkin lied, sketching out the outline of a tall, thin house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends and fiends!  
> Sorry for, like... disappearing. I got caught up in the whirlwind of life, yall know how it goes. In any case, yay, not dead, just taking some time. I hope yall have been having a good time, and I should (hopefully?) be able to post more regularly. Thanks for the patience, and
> 
> Cheers


	47. In Which Little My Causes Yet More Trouble

Pacing a circle into the grass, Little My tried to think. Alright, she had everything she needed, now she just needed to present it. That was easy, all she had to do was get Snorkmaiden, open the chest, and say- And say what? A pit formed in her stomach. This was supposed to be the simple part. All she had to do was get the words out. Say, “Snorkmaiden, I-” Noticing she was wringing her paws, she wiped them on her dress in disgust. No way was she about to pick up Moomin’s bad habits.

Recomposing herself, she stared at the open air in front of her, taking a deep breath.

“Snorkmaiden, hi! Fancy meeting you here! What’s that? Oh, yes, I suppose it _is_ your house, isn’t it? Fancy seeing _me_ here, then. Anyway, what I wanted to say was, I had something to show you, and-” She groaned, dragging a paw down her face. No! That was awful! Okay, try again.

“Helloooo Snorkmaiden.” Folding her paws behind her back, she took three little bouncy steps forward. “Do you want to hear a secret?” No, too… Weird. Stepping back again, she fixed her paws on her hips. “So, I heard you have a secret admirer. Yeah, they left a whole box a treasure for you. Excuse me? No, I have no idea who it could be, goodbye.”

Groaning, she flopped down onto the grass. Oh. This was harder than she’d given Moomin credit for. But then again, Moomin was such a sap. He loved soft and embarrassing things. Covering her heart with her paws, she felt it beat anxiously, scoffing at herself. By the way she was acting, you’d think it was _her_ chest that was being opened. Alright, alright- she could do this. She just needed to find the right words. The sort of words that said “I want you to know how dear you are to me, and the truth is, you are _very_ dear to me, and I’m sorry my brother is an idiot but also I’m not that sorry because I care about you very much and would rob a million banks if it made you happy.” More or less. Why did it always sound so much better in her head?

“Little My!”

Sitting up, she glanced down the path at a very frantic looking Moomintroll clutching something green. Was that a bush?

“What do you want, Moomin?” Lying down again, she stared at the sky overhead.

“Little My!” Winded, Moomin gasped for breath, holding out the thing in his paws towards her. Ah. Snufkin’s hat. Why did Moomin have Snufkin’s hat? She wrinkled her nose. Nope, she certainly wasn’t getting involved in whatever _this_ was.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” She watched a cloud pass by, pointing at it. “That one looks like a strawberry.”

“Snufkin! He’s missing!”

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Snufkin’s usually missing.” Had he left his hat behind for Moomin to hold onto? Gross.

“No, he’s _missing_ missing!”

“What do you mean _missing_ missing?” Sitting up, she looked at him warily. He really did seem a whole new sort of upset.

“I found this by the river! His fishing pole was also there, just left in the reeds!”

 _Oh no_ , Little My thought, watching Moomin just barely hold back his tears. Oh, something _bad_ had happened.

Before she could respond, there was an awful screech coming from next door. Taking only a moment to look at Moomintroll, Little My sprang up, breath caught in her throat as she ran towards the sound, Moomin following closely behind.

 

“Scoundrels! Criminals! Terrors!” Ms. Fillyjonk screeched, frantically waving a saucepan in the air. Skidding to a stop, Moomin surveyed the scene. Ms. Fillyjonk’s backyard looked like… Well it didn’t look much like a yard, that was for sure. Two men overturned dirt with their shovels, hurriedly digging up the gardens.

“What’s going on?” Looking between them all, Moomin tried to make any sense of the situation. One of the men startled, dropping his shovel to clap three times, eyes darting around until his gaze fixed on Moomin and Little My. Moomin reflexively stepped in front of her.

“Friends of _yours_ , I presume?” Angry, Ms. Fillyjonk pointed her pan towards Moomin and My.

“I wish.” Little My muttered, obviously amused. Moomin dropped Snufkin’s hat over Little My before she could cause any more damage. Ignoring Ms. Fillyjonk, he glanced between the two men, who were intent upon their work. The clapping one climbed out of the shallow hole he had dug, clapping at a bush before swiftly uprooting it with a spade. Ms. Fillyjonk screeched.

“I _demand_ to know the meaning of this! Is it not enough to make a mockery of my life, must you applaud yourself while doing so?” Her face reached a pitch of red that almost outdid her dress.

“No disrespect, ma’am. Just scaring the wood fairies away.”

“Wood fairies!” Ms. Fillyjonk waved her pan in the air as if it weighted nothing at all. “WOOD FAIRIES? This is nonsense! You’re drunkards! You’re criminals! You’re- Tasteless!”

“Wood fairies?” Little My lifted the rim of the hat over her face, quirking an eyebrow as she looked up at Moomin. He shrugged.

“Like the green lass said.” The man wheezed as his counterpart elbowed him in the gut.

“Green?” Moomin’s ears perked up.

“Thieving bastard. That’s the criminal you ought to be after,” The man in the red shirt addressed Ms. Fillyjonk.

“I well intend to! But first, you must LEAVE! This is MY property!” Clutching the pan’s handle, she held it like a bat.

“Did you say something about someone in green?” Moomin piped up.

“It might be your land, but OUR property’s on it!” The bandit hissed back.

“What shade of green?”

“What property?” Little My narrowed her eyes.

The bandit turned to her.

“Have you seen a large wooden chest? Buried somewhere in this yard?”

“No, can’t say I have.” Little My let the hat drop over her again so that only her feet showed.

“Like this shade of green?” Moomin pointed to the hat.

“Why would I allow a criminal to dig up my yard?”

“Perhaps you were offered a bribe!”

“Is that an accusation?” Ms. Fillyjonk fumed. The man in yellow clapped at another bush before ripping it out with his hands, much to Ms. Fillyjonk’s noisy horror.

“The person who told you about the wood fairies- What did he look like?”

Irritated, the person in red turned, finally facing Moomin. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m only asking.”

“You looking for your girlfriend?”

Moomin shook his head, “I haven’t got a girlfriend.”

“Good for you.” The yellow man piped up, kicking his shovel deeper into the dirt. “We’ve got a proper annoyance on our hands. Wouldn’t stop berating me for calling the beach our property. Said no one’s allowed to _own_ land.” Pausing, he scratched his head. “Right after telling me about how handsome the boyfriend is. Won’t shut up about that damned boyfriend. I pity the bastard, whoever he is.”

 _Oh lord,_ Moomin thought. _They got Snufkin._

“Well I’d appreciate it if you kept your squabbles to your OWN. Off you go!” Ms. Fillyjonk halfheartedly stepped in their direction. The men paid her no mind. Slowly, Moomin stepped backwards, picking up Little My, still in the hat, as he went.

“Sorry, ma’am.” The man in red shook his head. “Can’t do that until we’ve found what we came for.”

As he turned and ran, Moomin heard Ms. Fillyjonk call the men a name he was very glad Snufkin wasn’t around to hear.


	48. In Which Snufkin is Quite Brave, Despite The Circumstances

Shoving, Snufkin almost toppled backwards off the ladder, tail swinging wildly in an attempt to balance. Catching the ladder rung, he froze, commanded himself not to look down. Looking down would only make it worse. Re-bracing himself, he pushed at the trapdoor, felt it creak but not open. Oh, how did those bandits make it look so easy? Climbing another step up so that he was hunched over, Snufkin shoved harder, wishing for the umpteenth time that he had Moomintroll with him. Not that he wanted Moomin trapped as well; Moomin just seemed to be much better at these sorts of things than he was. Feeling the boards give, Snufkin just barely stopped himself from crying out in joy. The crew was gone, but that didn’t mean he wanted to attract any extra attention.

Taking a moment to concentrate his energy, he gave one final shove, flinching as the door popped open, hitting the deck with a hard crack. Frozen, he listened for someone to call out at the sound, but when no call came, he pushed himself up onto the deck, tail flipping about behind him in the cool air. Dusting his paws off on his coat, Snufkin reflexively reached to readjust his hat before remembering it wasn’t there. No matter; he’d get it back soon enough. He thought again of running into Moomintroll’s arms, being lifted and spun as his boyfriend lamented how scared he had been, how brave Snufkin must be, how-

“Nice weather, isn’t it?”

Snufkin paused, one foot already upon the ship’s rail.

“Yes. Thought I’d pop up for a bit of fresh air.” Raw terror dragged down his back as The Captain smiled.

“Weren’t trying to escape, were you?”

“No, no.” Resting an elbow on his knee, Snufkin propped his chin against his paw. “Just needed some space. It’s awfully cramped down there.” Forcing himself to laugh, he stared out at the coastline.

“Space- Of course.” The Captain nodded, coming to stand beside him. Staring at the shore as well, he gestured towards it with tilt of the head. “Looks awful empty, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does. Just the way I like it.” Snufkin grit his teeth.

“Yes, well.” The Captain clapped a paw onto his shoulder, almost knocking him over the side. “That’s enough space for one day. Why don’t you come keep me company until the others get back?”

“Actually, I was just going to go back to the brig-”

“It wasn’t a request.” Digging his thumb into the joint of Snufkin’s shoulder, he steered him towards the galley. Snukfin winced.

“In that case, how could I refuse?”

 

_He should have jumped_ , Snufkin thought glumly. No matter the threats of the crew, it was the wrong time of year for sharks. He should have just jumped. But no, he had hesitated, and now he was trapped in irritatingly conventionally decorated quarters as The Captain snapped the door shut behind him.

“You didn’t think we’d just _leave_ you here, did you?” Strolling around Snufkin slowly, he came up behind him, placing two large paws on Snufkin’s shoulders before snapping him down into a seat.

“Am I really so dangerous that you have to watch me?” Snufkin forced himself to laugh, squishing his tail with his leg so it would stop flicking about.

“Dangerous? No.” The Captain hummed contemplatively, not removing his paws from Snufkin’s shoulders. “Stupid? Yes.” With a jerky movement, he grabbed hold of Snufkin’s arms, yanking them back behind the chair. _Great,_ Snufkin thought glumly. _Now he was going to die AND have bald patches on his wrists from constant ropeburn._ “You know,” The Captain spoke slowly, tying the knots with great care, “I’ve never seen so much foolishness in such a little creature.”

“Thank you?” Still terrified, Snufkin stared straight ahead, out the large window. Could he fit out of it, chair and all?

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” Snufkin watched the shadows in the room change as the man stood up behind him. He forced himself not to tilt his head back to see. “May not have them for long, but that’s beside the point.”

“I’ve told you the truth, I-”

“That doesn’t matter.” Tone still unflinchingly calm, he fiddled with his sleeves. Something hot rolled in Snufkin’s stomach. “None of that matters now, it’s too late to undo what’s been done. So, either we get to test the buoyancy of liars, or I get _another_ crewmate with little enough sense to make them truly great. But it can’t be changed.”

Snufkin paused, replaying his words in his head. “Pardon?”

“You’d be surprised--A little stupidity goes a long way. Most of the gutsiest folks I know are only that way because they don’t know better.”

“No, I- I’m not joining your crew.”

“You’ll have time to think about it, but the decision isn’t really up to you, is it? Either you join or we drop you in the middle of the ocean half a world away.”

Snufkin bristled. He didn’t think he’d be able to make it half a world, no matter how good a traveler he was.

“There’s been some mistake- I’m not-”

“Not going anywhere?” A circling arm obscured his vision, and then a strip of fabric was being pulled taut over his eyes. “No, I don’t think you are.”

Snufkin could feel every single one of his hairs stand on end as the floor creaked beneath them, the sound of the waves suddenly stifling.

“I’ll be no good! You don’t want someone like me, you-” He gasped as the chair was tipped back, catching on a harsh angle.

“You listen and you listen well,” The Captain’s voice was coming from somewhere just above his own face. “If you don’t stop, I will find a _very_ creative way of shutting you up. Do you understand?” Not waiting for him to answer, he slammed the chair back in place. Horrified, Snufkin stared at the back of the blindfold, very much wishing he were anywhere but here.

Two paws gripped his knees, causing him to reflexively flinch back.

“Not feeling so feisty now, are we?”

“Please let me go.” The words warbled in his throat.

“No,” The Captain snarled.

“I’m a terrible sailor.”

“You’ll learn.”

“My friends will worry.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“My boyfriend-”

The Captain began to laugh, a big full laugh that bounced around inside Snufkin’s skull. The sound made him angry.

“Your boyfriend will _what_? Cry? Waste all away?” He laughed again. “I’ll tell you what- If he’s got half as much pluck as you, he’s welcome to join as well. We’d have to set up some ground rules, of course. I don’t like cavorting amongst my crew.” His nails dug into Snufkin’s legs.

“He’d never join.” Righteously angry, Snufkin forgot to be scared again, his puffed tail smacking against his legs.

“Fine. More for me.” Letting go of him suddenly, The Captain pushed off. Snufkin tensed, trying to figure out where he had gone. There was the sound of glass clinking across the room, something being poured. The ship whined in protest at the ocean tides, groaning out its misery. Making his own breath shallow, Snufkin tried to force his heartbeat to quiet down. He could feel a swatch of heat on the left side of his face. Okay, that side must be facing the window, which meant he was facing right. If he was facing the right, the door was behind him, and-

“Boo!”

Snufkin jumped, making The Captain break into laughter once again. He’d whispered right into his ear, close enough for Snufkin to feel his breath. As Snufkin cringed, he followed the sound of laughter as The Captain walked around him, scraping a chair across the floor to a spot right in front of him. Snufkin assumed he had sat down; the only sound now being the occasional tinkle of ice.

“Thirsty?” The voice was closer than he’d have liked, though any distance where it could still be heard was too close. He heard the rhythmic clatter of a drink being swirled near enough to his face that he could smell it, bitter and strong.

“No thank you.” He flexed his paws into fists.

“How about a smoke, then? As far as either of us know, it might be your last.”

Snufkin hesitated at that. His nerves really could use some calming…

“Will you untie me?”

“Not a chance,” The Captain’s voice was muffled as his teeth clicked against what Snufkin assumed was the end of a pipe, a match hissing into the quiet. There was another beat of silence and then a flash of heat against the tip of Snufkin’s nose.

“Oh!” Jumping back, he flinched, nearly tipping the chair over. The Captain laughed as the match hissed out.

“You’re great fun, aren’t you?”

“All the more reason not to kill me.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.” The room filled with the scent of smoke. “So, what drew you to a life of crime?”

Snufkin felt something push against his lips, the smell of smoke much heavier now. “My dad’s a joxter.” He spoke around the pipe being held between his teeth, taking a slow pull on the tobacco. If he was going to die, he might as well enjoy it.

“Figures,” The Captain chuckled humorously, pulling the pipe away again. “Not a very unique story.”

“The truth doesn’t always make a good story.” Snufkin relaxed insofar as he could, his shoulders dropping.

“You should make up a different story.”

“That would be lying.”

There was a beat of silence and then more laughter. The Captain pressed the pipe back to Snufkin’s lips. “You’re a funny sort of criminal, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you could say that.” Snufkin took great care to breathe the smoke out his mouth, not wanting it to creep up beneath his blindfold. He had a suspicion that would not feel good.

“Did no one ever teach you how to do it proper?”

“I don’t think there is a proper way. Besides, even if there was, I’m not sure I’d care for it.”

“It would have saved you a lot of trouble if you’d bothered to learn.”

Snufkin thought back to the last time he’d been jailed by the police, how it had felt like the end of the world. “I think trouble would find a way to catch up with me regardless. I seem to have a knack for it.”

“Can’t say I’ve known you long, but I believe it.” He held the pipe up for Snufkin again, letting his finger brush against his face. “Pretty things like you never stand a fair chance.”

Something in Snufkin’s gut recoiled at the words, becoming molten liquid, but he bit his reaction down. “I don’t think anybody’s ever given a fair chance, not really.”

“No?”

“No. I think that if people had more opportunity, they’d be less likely to do things like cheat, or lie, or kidnap me.”

“It sounds like you get kidnapped often.”

“More and more, it seems.” Snufkin sighed, irritated.

“And how does this one rank?”

“Oh, by far the scariest.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” Snufkin shook his head emphatically.

“Well. That’s reassuring.” There was a definitive note of pride in The Captain’s voice. “We’re certainly not amateurs, but it’s always nice to be told you’re doing a good job.”

“I understand.” Snufkin took a heavy drag of the pipe. Pulling the handle away, there was a pause where Snufkin could feel the not-so-great distance between a paw and his face, and then there was a fingertip pressing to his mouth, pushing on his lip.

“It’s a shame, really. What a waste. So young and fresh. You even smell nice still.”

“Are you sure you can’t untie me? Or at least let me use my paws?” Snufkin choked on the heartbeat racing up his throat, knees pressed so tight he was certain they would bruise.

“What do you need them for?”

“If you’re going to kill me, I’d like to play a song before I go.” He nodded downward, shifting his knee up as he did so. A paw reached into his pocket, relieving the light weight of his harmonica from his tunic. There was the sound of metal tapping as The Captain drummed his fingers against it.

“I’ll strike you a deal, but only because I’m curious. You don’t get untied, but I’ll bind your arms in front. Alright?”

“I can work with that.” There was the scuffle of chair on wood again, and then the biting rope was being loosened, strong paws forcing his arms into his lap before tying Snufkin’s wrists again. “Thank you,” he nodded, lifting the harmonica placed in his paws. It was a small comfort, how easy it was to recognize the sturdy metal even without sight. Feeling to make sure he had it the right way, he lifted it to his mouth and began to play.


	49. In Which Snufkin Gives A Private Concert With Mediocre Reviews

He’d promised Moomintroll that he’d always come back to him. He’d _promised_. Feeling the weight of metal on his lips, Snufkin trembled, wondered if Moomin could ever forgive him for not coming back. His belly felt leaden as another wave of cold nausea swept through him at the thought. No, it was going to work. It had to work. Moomin was clever; he’d figure it out. Besides, Snufkin had a promise to keep.

“Nod bad,” Snufkin could smell the tobacco smoke still in the air as The Captain spoke. “Not so bad at all. With practice, you might even be good.”

“You think so?” Snufkin pretended to be flattered, not bringing the harmonica far from his lips as he spoke.

“Sure, sure. Not perfect, but not bad. Of course, who am I to judge?” The Captain chuckled and there was the sound of creaking wood. Snufkin wondered if he’d stood or just leaned back. Quiet, he tried to listen for the sound of footsteps. “Play another.” The voice hadn’t seemed to move, but he couldn’t be certain. Hesitating only a moment, Snufkin lifted his harmonica to his lips and began to play his spring tune from the previous year. He forced himself to concentrate, to not let his fingers slip so easily into the pattern they knew well enough to be second nature. With a start, he realized he’d closed his eyes, even with his blindfold. Habits were harder to break than he thought.

As he opened his eyes into the equal darkness, two paws pressed to his upper arms,

“Keep going,” a voice muttered not far behind him. Faltering, Snufkin played on, not having to pretend to let his fingers skip. He heard a sharp breath, felt a warm pressure on the side of his head as one paw lifted to comb into his hair. Snufkin shuddered. “I’ve traveled with mumriks before, you know.” The voice was barely more than a whisper now. Snufkin’s harmonica squeaked as if it was a small animal that had been stepped on.

Snufkin barely breathed, his entire heart trying to suffocate him.

“It would be such a shame if my men were to return empty handed.”

“Yes.” Forcing the one word out, Snufkin kept playing. A finger stroked his cheek.

“So unfortunate. I really am reticent to waste such… talent.”

“I’m sure. Sailing mustn’t be easy.” Breaking decorum, Snufkin stopped mid-song, switching to a faster, easier one.

“Of course, I am also very forgiving. I could perhaps be _persuaded_ to overlook such crimes if given something in return.” Snufkin did not at all like the tone in his voice, the way it seemed to claw beneath his skin.

“I haven’t anything to give.”

“Don’t you?” Snufkin could feel his mouth right up against his ear now. With a greater urgency he began to play, desperate to ignore the pooling intrigue in his belly. He still had a few hours left before he well and truly lost his head. He could make it. His plan would work. It had to work. It had to. Picking up the song’s pace to an unnatural speed, he continued to play, focusing all his energy on getting out one note after another.

The warmth near his face dissipated, wood creaking once again under the weighty steps. Squeezing his eyes shut, Snufkin furrowed his brow in concentration. _Just as Moomin would do,_ he told himself, _just as Moomin would be._ Moomin would be brave. He would laugh at the danger, remark excitedly on what a great story it would make. Why, this one wouldn’t even need any embellishing, he would laugh, and Snufkin would smile back at him, feeling just as brave. “Just like Jim in Treasure Island,” he would whisper, affecting a deeper, sterner voice as he back-talked the pirates. Snufkin smiled, the movement hidden by his harmonica. His song took on a wilder tune. Yes, Moomin would come. His plan would work. It was going to work. It had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo friends and fiends alike!  
> Yes, it is true- I have not, in fact, died. Take this short chapter as proof of my continued reign of terror, along with the promise of soon arriving future chapters.   
> Thanks for the patience- My deepest apologies, greatest appreciation, and full-hearted adoration are yalls, as always. And of course,
> 
> Cheers


	50. In Which Moomin Worries and Little My Isn't Entirely Unhelpful

Running along the sand, Moomin caught his balance as he almost slipped, paw skirting out from beneath him.

“I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know?” Little My called after him, running twice as fast and just barely keeping up. “Moomin! Hey, Moomin!”

“Not time for that now!” Calling back, Moomin continued on his path straight ahead. He knew she was worried, not only about Snufkin, but that Moomin might be mad at her. He wasn’t, not yet at least. Later on, he was sure he would be furious, but until then, there wasn’t time to get mad, not until Snufkin was safe. Skidding to a stop, Moomin almost fell into a haphazard hole tearing down into the beach. Bumping into him, Little My fell backwards, pushing herself up with her paws as she struggled to catch her breath.

“He’ll be fine! You saw those goons; they were practically useless!” Resting her paws upon her knees, she looked up at Moomin, exhausted.

“There’s no one here-” Pivoting in a quick circle, Moomin looked about himself. “No one at all!”

“They can’t be far, not if they saw me.” Straightening up, Little My clumsily scurried over to a nearby tree. “Help me up!”

Clasping his paws together, Moomin held them down for her to step into, hoisting her up so that she could grab one of the lower branches. Inelegantly, Little My began climbing upwards, still tired from the running.

“Be careful!” Moomin called, though he had to admit his voice was more frustration than caution.

“I know, I know.” Straddling a high branch, Little My cupped her paw over her eyes, squinting out towards the horizon. “I don’t see anything!”

“Did they leave?” Anxiously, Moomin shifted his weight back and forth, still scanning the beach for any sign of footprints.

“Not without their nitwits, they wouldn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. Besides, they’d rather have treasure than Snufkin. Can’t blame them,” muttering the last part to herself, she used her paw to balance, leaning forward.

“You take that back right now!” Moomin shouted, paws fixed into fists.

“Shh,” Little My waved him off with her paw, craning her head.

“I mean it, Little My! Now is not the time to be mean! So if you don’t want to help-”

“Quiet, Moomin!”

“I’m serious! If you can’t take this seriously, then I don’t want you to-”

“Moomin!” Shushing him again, Little My held a finger to her lips. “Listen!”

Quieting down, Moomin tilted his head in the same direction as her, his ears twitching, trying to catch onto whatever she was hearing. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.” Squinting her eyes, Little My wrinkled her nose. “It sounds like a sick bird.”

“It’s music!” Moomin jumped. “Snufkin!”

“See!” Triumphant, Little My gestured out with her paw. “I told you he was alright! It takes a whole lot more than that to kill a Mymble.”

Shushing her now, Moomin held up a paw. “No, something’s wrong. Listen.”

“I am.” Little My began climbing down from the tree. “Sounds like his harmonica got busted.”

“No, more than that- it’s- Something’s wrong.” Uneasy, Moomin let his ears continue to twitch about, finding which way the song was coming from.

Following him slowly, Little My hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know yet.” Walking towards the sound, Moomin continued up the beach, Little My tailing behind in his footsteps. As they walked along, the dark sky made the beach melt straight into the ocean, which seemed to fold up into the large, speckled sky. Moomin thought of the freckles on Snufkin’s shoulders and felt a pang in his heart.

Stopping suddenly, Moomin looked around him, Little My just narrowly avoiding crashing into him again.

“It’s much louder now,” standing behind Moomin, she rested a paw on his arm, looking at what they could see of the beach surrounding them.

“Do you hear that?” Moomin held up a paw, entirely attuned to the sound.

“Almost wish I didn’t,” Little My winced. “I’m telling you, he must have busted it.”

“No,” Moomin whispered, looking around them furtively. “He’s playing all wrong. It’s not the harmonica, it’s the playing; it’s all messed up.”

Frowning, Little My listened intently. “Snufkin never plays wrong; not where anyone can hear him, at least.”

“Exactly,” Moomin looked down at her. “Even his mistakes are good.”

“So either it isn’t Snufkin…”

“Or he wants us to know he’s in trouble.” Moomin finished her thought. The pair stood in silence a moment longer.

“But where _is_ he?” No longer able to keep the fear from her voice, Little My stepped closer to Moomin, still scanning the empty beach. There’s no one here!”

“That might not be quite true,” Moomin mumbled, pointing a finger towards a dim orange light, nestled snugly in the black folds of sea-sky.


End file.
